Heritage Foretold
by CrazyAuraGirl23
Summary: Shmi has always been a kindhearted young woman, but when she becomes the target of political scandal and danger, she begins the struggle that leads her to enslavement on Tatooine. This is the story of her own fall from grace. AU, prequel of my story "Promise of the Past".
1. Chapter 1: Grandmother Lilina

**Author's Note: Hey Everyone! Be sure to reread this chapter! I changed some things and expanded on it. Thanks to those who supported this prequel!**

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

It had been some time since the beginning of the trip, one that seemed to last a great deal longer than either had expected. It all had started shortly after the Tano girls had arrived, making life complicated for the two passengers about the small, rickety vessel that was trudging onward towards the further expanses of the Galaxy. To wild space.

Yet why were they on this trip?

After all, wild space was hardly a place for anyone not interested in the republic's pay for charting out new systems or finding new resources for wealthy companies to exploit. Save for chasing down a criminal, the law itself would not venture forth into the unknown. Yet here these two were, traveling along with an adventurer well versed in this mysterious domain.

It was simple, really, someone had told them they knew a great source of new Force users for the Jedi. And so the strong form of a particularly mangy looking Zygerrian male waltzed into the home of the infamous Jedi warriors, demanding he speak with a specific Jedi Master that lived there. Demanding he speak with none other than Luke Skywalker. Only he would suffice.

Deliberations about these demands had lasted two days with the high council, each wondering what this Zygerrian had to gain by tricking their greatest warrior. It was eventually permitted that he follow up on this crazed story about another world filled with Force users, so long as he did not travel alone. And his choice companion was not the one the Zygerrian was looking forward to.

The woman that came with Skywalker was practically his opposite in every way. Her hair was dark to his light. Her eyes brown to his blue. Her figure slight to his muscular frame. Her demeanor strict to his calm. Were it not for these facts, Pi-Rali might have thought Leia S. Organa was beautiful.

She made him nervous, the way her brown eyes stared at him, her eyes daring him to make one wrong move towards the light haired master that sat behind her. Said master was lost in meditation, floating a few feet of the ground as he convened with the universe, likely sniffing out any traps that may or may not be awaiting them. Though the man was known for being the more powerful, he was not the one that kept the Zygerrian on edge.

The only break from her cruel stare was the sounds of Skywalker coming to from his meditation and the scratching of the poor Zygerrian, Pi-Rali, on one of his infected ears. "Something wrong?" She asked of him, her voice strong enough to challenge the queen of his home world.

He shrugged and admitted, "Ear's infected... got something real nasty in it when I fell into a pool on a planet I was exploring." She nodded, accepting that answer but offering no condolences to his pain. No, Master Skywalker was the one to offer him that kindness.

"Have you seen a doctor?" He inquired, seating himself in one of the chairs as he stretched his arms from sitting still for so long. Touched by his kindness, as few were openly friendly with the Zygerrian, Pi-Rali nodded with a smile and then returned to his steering. Now, in the depths of wild space, things were getting more difficult to predict. He was off the hyperspace bypass and had to rely on his personal maps and memory to get them to the correct location.

It seemed that the silence was uncomfortable to Organa, "So how did you happen upon this place?" she wondered aloud at him, her voice still hard like he saw on the HoloNet. It grated on his ears.

"Truth be told..." He admitted sheepishly, "I wasn't the first one to find this planet. My grandmother had stumbled on it while transporting a Jedi out of a battle zone near the bypass. I just retraced her steps, interested in what her diaries had commented on."

Organa looked carefully to Skywalker, who sat forward intently. "Your grandmother is Pi-Lippa, isn't she?"Pi-Rali nodded to him, "I thought I recognized the family name." The man added with a smile. "According to my uncle, Pi-Lippa planned to free my grandmother, who was her slave, but her final wish was not granted after her passing, and she was sold to the Hutts." Pi-Rali's jaw dropped in hearing that, and his eyes were once again downcast.

"I'm afraid that isn't the story my grandmother told me of yours." he informed them sadly, "Though I realize it would be easier to believe your version, seeming as my kind have been slavers for centuries, believe me when I say that Pi-Lippa never owned a soul. She was a proud adventurer who did not believe in sentient bondage."

"But your mother was all for it." Organa suddenly added, her face unamused, "Especially as princess of Chisordrek." Pi-Rali frowned.

"Pi-Nanali is an embarrassment to all my grandmother and I stand for." Pi-Rali nearly growled, "That I was her ticket to a cushy lifestyle haunts me to this very day. She was well suited for Prince Delak, and I am glad she was his cast-away mistress, even if I was mistreated for it. She deserved every off comment thrown her way." His conviction in his feelings radiated in the Force, bringing a smile to Skywalker's face.

"You are a credit to your people." Skywalker suddenly told him. Were he able to flush, Pi-Rali's face would have lit up red like a super-nova. He turned to see that Organa was also smiling at him.

_A test!_He realized with wide eyes, _And I've passed it!_

Leaning forward, Organa inquired of him, "If our grandmother was not Pi-Lippa's slave..." she wondered aloud, "Then how did they know one another?"

Pi-Rali smiled and sat back, suddenly comfortable in his own ship once more. He crossed his arms over his coveralls and took a deep breath to prepare himself. This story was going to shock his passengers and he wanted to be ready for it. He was so eager, he missed the pronoun that would spell out his situation entirely. "She was her friend." He began carefully, "Your grandmother, Shmi Skywalker, helped my grandmother when she was in need, and in return Pi-Lippa helped her."

"Helped her to what?" Organa inquired, her brown eyes now wide like a child's. Skywalker sat beside her, his face also filled with curiosity.

"Helped her to escape from captivity."

They turned to one another, each surprised by the story. In fact, the twist even left Luke Skywalker chuckling in amazement, "I knew our grandma was made of tough stuff... but wow." This time Pi-Rali heard it.

"_Our_ grandma?" he inquired with furrowed brows. Skywalker and Organa grinned at him mischievously, appearing to have their own conversation in their eyes. Eventually, Organa was the one to admit to him the truth.

"Yes, our grandma." She told him, "We're twin brother and sister." Her red lips grinned at the astounded expression on the Zygerrian's face, "It's not something we advertise, as our connection can cause some trouble during voting. I've been accused before of siding with my brother for the sake that he is my brother, and I'm not a fan of it." Pi-Rali nodded slowly, smiling slightly as he processed this.

"So I presume then that neither of you are fully acquainted with your past?" He inquired slowly, unsure if he was treading on thin ice now that he'd established some sort of camaraderie with these two Force-giants. Luke shrugged and nodded a little bit.

"I'd heard many things from my uncle mostly, seeming as he was the one who spent the most time with her when she was willing to talk about her past. I understand that prior to that, she'd been very quiet. We uncovered some other stuff recently, but nothing that amounted to anything more than headaches." Luke admitted, his eyes cast to the floor, "But the truth is, we know so little about who our family is that it feels like I'm caught in a vacuum. Were we always slaves? Were we athletes? Inventors even?"

Leia chuckled, "I could see inventors." Luke nodded to that, grinning a little before she returned to Pi-Rali, "Why?"

Smiling, Pi-Rali offered, "Well, I suppose you could say I found those answers for you."

The twins were frozen for a moment, and then turned to each other with many unspoken questions. Pi-Rali understood, however, that as Force-users, they often talked to one another in their minds. He suspected that was what they were doing just now.

"Are you saying that..." Skywalker attempted to voice. When it failed him, and Organa proved incapable for words, Pi-Rali could only smile to himself and nod.

"Yes." He told them, "I'm saying that I've found what you've been searching for. I've found the world your grandmother comes from."

* * *

Lilina smiled to herself a great smile as she stared up to the ruins that were once her home. Though now worn and ragged, Castle Stavo was still as magnificent now as it had been so many years ago. Long before a cunning warrior burned it to the ground.

Carefully, she leaned back in her chair, smelling the flowers as memories of fire and ashes filled her mind. _Those were terrible times,_ she reminded herself. It wasn't hard to feel the pain of that memory, the year when half of her beloved sons perished. The year when her ever-loyal family was turned against itself by a witch if there ever was one.

She opened her eyes to brush a tear away from them, her stare still fixed on that ruin of a castle. The town around it seemed to be thriving, though it was no longer the bustling city it once was. No, Old Stavo had been long abandoned as a capital city, the northerly Brida was now home to all royalty and commerce in the tribe. _Brida._ She growled inside.

_Yes,_ she realized as she sensed something in the distance. A wave of light ricocheting through the Aura of the world, _your days are numbered._

As if to verify her forecast, the clouds above broke apart from the force of a small vessel dropping down from the skies. She did not recognize the craft, but she was certain she knew who was on board it. Pi-Rali's presence was very apparent in the world Aura. Pulling her worn bones to her feet, she grabbed her walking stick and cloak and headed home. Home to where she was certain Pi-Rali would bring her much anticipated guests.

* * *

Luke was still in shock from Pi-Rali's declaration nearly a day ago. Having scoured many star charts after unearthing the name of the planet, he was certain that the world had faded away into non-existence.

And yet here he was! On Advorosia. His true homeworld. _In this world, _Pi-Rali had told him the day before, _I met several by the name of Skywalker, including one who not only knew your grandmother, but knew my grandmother was responsible for her disappearance. She wants to meet you!_ Luke swallowed at the thought.

When the ship landed and it was time for them to disembark, Luke found himself not wanting to leave the ship. He stared down the ramp hesitantly for what seemed like hours before Leia took his hand in hers, her smile up at him filling him with strength he did not know he had.

With a smile on his face to reassure her that he would be all right, Luke turned back to the ramp and took his first step with his sister towards their place of origin. Well, half their identity's origin, anyway.

And what they saw took their breath away. All around them were gray and green mountains. Snow-caps topped some and villages others. They could not believe the sights they saw. Green fields of tall grasses lining small towns that punctuated the river in the valley. A terrific gray ruin that overlooked the whole area. It was gorgeous!

"It's like Alderaan!" Leia decreed, stepping before her brother with a smile to study the trees in the distance... all coniferous and healthy. "I never imaged our grandmother came from a world like this!" Luke smiled as he followed his sister down the game trail.

"Neither did I." He admitted, "I always thought of her on Tatooine."

"In the desert and sand?" Leia inquired with a smile.

Luke nodded, "Yeah."

Pi-Rali watched them both with a smile, proud to be a part of this peculiar family reunion. Not many in the galaxy hailed from a primitive planet in such a way, after all. He stepped forward, reminding them and their glee of his presence.

"Shall we get going then?" He asked the eager twins, who nodded with wide grins.

They proceeded down the path, Pi-Rali leading the way, towards a picturesque town that lined the river. It was small, quaint, and primitive. The buildings themselves were all made of cut stone, likely from the mountains surrounding them, and the roofs were all a combination of cut wood and field-grass. Several small chimneys spat out gray smoke, all while a water wheel spun contentedly in the babbling brook that joined the river.

As they approached this town, an old man with a missing arm stepped out with a walking stick. He hobbled down his front walk into the street just as Luke, Leia and Pi-Rali arrived. "Hello again!" Pi-Rali waved to the long bearded man, "Good to see you again Mr. Uthias!"

Uthias stopped and looked up at them, a smile on his face at first. "Pi-Rali!" he called as he meandered closer to them, he waved at them with his stick after every third step, making Luke and Leia smile at his eager friendliness, "Good to see you again my friend!"

Pi-Rali nodded to him, "You as well!"

By then, Uthias had joined them, his smile wider still as he looked from Pi-Rali to Luke and then Leia. But as he looked, the twins could not help but notice something odd about him; though he walked easily and missed every obstacle, he was blind.

"So!" Uthias inquired, "You've brought friends this time."

"At Lady Lilina's request." Pi-Rali informed him, "She was most particular about meeting these two." Uthias nodded with a grin.

"Yes, my mother gets that way." He admitted before holding his hand out to the nearest of the twins, Leia, "Uthias Skywalker." he introduced himself happily.

Luke stepped to the side to regard the man with an amazed grin while Leia collected herself to respond, "Leia Or-Skywalker." She caught herself, wanting desperately to be identified as family if she could be. Uthias frowned a moment, his eyes shrinking with uncertainty as the twins suddenly felt a new and mysterious presence in the Force.

"So you are." He told them with a grin, his eyes turning to Luke. "And what is your name, my boy?" Frozen for a minute in awe, Luke shook his head free of his musings and smiled.

"Luke Skywalker." He told him as he took the man's hand in his own. "We are Shmi Skywalker's grandchildren." He added with a friendly voice. He wasn't expecting the reaction he received.

"Sh-" the man stuttered as he stepped forward and ran his hand down Luke's cheek, feeling his face and building a picture in his mind, "Shmi?" Luke nodded, but Leia was the one to add in.

"We understand she originated from these parts." She told him, hoping to keep the conversation light and friendly, despite the man's apparent awe.

Uthias nodded, his face solemn, "She did. But she was banished long ago." he paused a moment and sighed, "She was... she..." It was clear he wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say, "She was a beautiful, loving soul... and greatly missed." Luke and Leia could sense his sorrow, and attempted to help the ancient by adding their kindness and sympathy into the Force. Uthias was clearly surprised by their control, as he jumped when he felt their gentle touch on his Aura.

"You are gifted!" He realized with a grin, "Stupendous!"

Luke and Leia nodded, chuckling to themselves, "Well." Luke replied as they fell into formation behind Pi-Rali, Uthias in between them, "I suppose you could call us gifted." Uthias chuckled in hearing that, recognizing a familiar tone in Luke's voice. He ignored his suspicions, however, and continued onwards down the lane.

"Well, whatever you are," he told the twins, "You are welcome! It's been a long time since any family has visited this town, and, frankly, I'm miffed that my brother's great-grandchildren would arrive long before my own... but whatever."

"Your brother?" Leia asked as they approached the rest of the town. Though she was engaged in the conversation, she could not believe what she was seeing. The entire community was filled with the elderly. Many were without limbs or showed signs of severe disease. Even more acted as though it didn't affect them. And most had clearly lost their sight.

Around them, the shoddiest droids sped about, trying to keep up with the community and assist where they could. Several were broken down in the streets, becoming new obstacles for those that roamed about. It took Leia a while to notice that, though elements of technology were present, the town itself was clearly primitive when compared with the rest of the galaxy.

"Yes, Shmi was my niece..." He paused, "A punishment for offending the queen." Uthias informed her, sensing her curiosity at his eyes. "She takes the sight of those who cannot see her vision. All except mother, of course."

Leia scoffed, "That's barbaric!" Luke nodded in agreement, and attempted to hide his frown as he waved to a kindly old woman that waved to them.

"Dalili Wallcarver." Uthias introduced Luke, "Her father used to be the master stonemason of the land... but that was before King Sarantis took the throne." Luke sighed.

"What did she do to lose her sight?" Luke wondered as Pi-Rali stopped and knocked on one particular door. Uthias sighed, his whole body rising and falling as he did.

"She was his lover." He told Luke, "The king's... before he was married too... but most Cloudrunner women are jealous, and she was punished for having so much as a history with Sarantis. It didn't matter that she was married with children... and those rotten snots went and abandoned her here too."

"Where is here exactly?" Leia inquired as Pi-Rali knocked again, his face more concerned now than it had been.

Uthias sighed once more, "This place is called Stavasi, but most call it the town of the decrepit." The twins both glanced to one another, concern and horror in their eyes as they heard this. Then, as their guide began to curse and search the windows, Leia chanced the question that had been plaguing the twins since he first mentioned the queen.

"Why did you lose your sight?"

Uthias turned to her and smiled, "Well... I told the queen that I wished Shmi were still here so she could kick her ass." Both twin's eyes were wide in horror, "Then I spat at the bitch and turned to leave. I lost my sight before I made it out the door." he then paused and added, "Save for with mother, I think it would be best that you don't tell anyone you are Shmi's grandchildren... you might stir up trouble with that."

"Our grandmother caused quite the commotion, I'm guessing." Leia commented as Luke turned to Pi-Rali, who came back around the house with a smile. Uthias merely nodded as the Zygerrian approached.

"She was taking a nap." he told the twins with a grin.

Uthias chuckled, "Well, you try being 116 years old sometime... it ain't easy."

Luke and Leia looked at one another in shock before turning to Uthias. Neither were certain if they should voice their question, but a clearly Force-sensitive Uthias must have caught their wonderings, as he answered them. "I am a respectable 92 years of age." The door then opened, revealing an even more haggard woman with bright green eyes, green as Uthias's must have been before he'd been blinded.

She smiled at them kindly, her eyes drifting from one member of their party to the next. "Pi-Rali." She greeted first, "So good of you to visit." She then paused and stepped out of the doorway, allowing her guests into her home.

The four of them entered her abode, marveling at how charming it was. Paintings and pictures of all sorts lined the walls, showing faces of many children and adults. They were surprised to even see some HoloImages tucked in here and there. The amount of detail that went into the artwork amazed the twins far more than the sputtering tech, who stopped to regard several images while Pi-Rali led the way to the seating area.

"Lady Lilina." He smiled at her, "I have brought your great-great-grandchildren, as you've requested."

"So they really are Shmi's descendents." Uthias noted as he seated himself next to Lilina. He reached down carefully and picked up a cup of tea with a smile under his whiskers. "Unbelievable. I'm amazed her family was able to survive the hunts all this time... where they must have gone to hide!"

Luke smiled at the old man a moment and then to his great-great-grandmother before his eyes caught sight of a small picture on Lilina's wall. It was a painting of a warrior, based on the armor he wore. He had a crooked grin on his face, with the same features he and his father donned, the same jaw, the same nose. Even his wild hair was a wheat blond, and his eyes a dark blue. Much like Anakin Skywalker's had been. "Are all these pictures of your family, Lady Lilina?" He asked.

With a grin, Lilina replied hautily, "I'm your goddamned great-great-grandmother boy! You'd best identify me as such." He chuckled and rolled his eyes a moment, bringing an all knowing grin to Lilina's face, "And yes, they are all my family. That one there is one of my sons. You resemble him greatly, in my opinion." Luke smiled back at her, his eyes falling back on the painting a moment before he noticed that Uthias had stopped himself mid-way to reaching his teacup. His face seemed both puzzled and horrified all at once.

"Is he my great-grandfather then?" Luke inquired as he moved towards the sitting area, his eyes falling on Uthias as he did. He seemed to relax after hearing that, setting his cup down as Leia seated herself next to him.

Lilina smiled and looked down to her hands, "No." She told him, "No he is not."

Suddenly, Uthias stood up, as though he were uncomfortable with the topic of his own brother. "Well, I'd best be off." He told them all, "Mother, great seeing you. Luke." he turned to him and then to Leia, "Leia. It was nice to meet you."

"Thank you." Leia told him with a grin, "It was nice to meet you as well, uncle." Uthias paused a moment, his smile hesitant before he nodded and dashed out the door. It didn't matter to him that he'd forgotten to say good-bye to his good friend Pi-Rali. But Pi-Rali didn't care. He was already passed out in his chair from exhaustion in navigating through the wild space.

Disturbed by their great-uncle's sudden dismissal, the twins turned to Lilina with curiosity and worry in their eyes. Through the Force, they sensed she was also somewhat disturbed. "What was that about, grandmother?" Luke inquired carefully, his brow furrowed in a way that brought many memories back to Lilina.

She shook her head, bringing an end to the topic. Then, she leaned forward and grabbed a tea cup, "Cralli Grass Tea." She told them, "The best for nerves." The twins smiled and gathered their own glasses, turning to each other in confusion for a slight moment.

Lilina continued to sip at her tea a moment, her eyes falling on both Luke and Leia continuously. Eventually, she had to add, "Child." She smiled at Leia, "You look so much like Shmi, it actually hurts. She was my oldest grandchild... and my pride and joy." Leia flushed a moment.

"Do you have many grandchildren?" She wondered. Lilina set her tea cup down and nodded.

"Total, I've had the privilege of seeing thirty-seven grandchildren into this world." She then grinned at the twins, "Which isn't bad considering I had eight children in all." The twins chuckled before she asked, "Are you all of Shmi's grandchildren?" They nodded.

"Our father was her only child." Luke told her. Lilina nodded and leaned back into her chair.

"What was his name?" She inquired with a smile.

Luke and Leia glanced at one another a moment before replying, "Anakin." Luke said proudly, "His name was Anakin Skywalker." Lilina sighed in hearing that name.

"I see." Was all she said, surprising the twins. "Anakin."

She then paused a moment, picking her delicate tea cup up once more. It seemed a great while of uncomfortable silence before she finally faced the twins, "You must be wondering why I called you to this backwater world."

The twins both shook their heads, with Leia inserting, "If you're our great-great-grandmother, it really is no wonder." Lilina chuckled some.

"I suppose so." She realized, "But, though it does my heart good to see you both," She paused, setting her cup down, "I'm afraid I called you here on less selfish pretenses." Both twins stared at her curiously, with sky blue and chocolate brown eyes. "I need your help."

Luke set his cup down and leaned forward on his knees, taking their grandmother's plea very seriously, "With what?"

Lilina sighed and sat back in her chair, Luke's position and expression bringing many memories, both painful and pleasurable, back into her mind. "In short, I need you to fulfill a prophecy I forecasted many years ago." Both twins glanced at one another in surprise.

"A prophecy?" Leia wondered, now setting down her teacup.

Lilina nodded, "Yes, you see... I foresaw that this world would be united through Shmi and that an era of peace would prevail for centuries to come."

"United?" Leia asked incredulously, her eyes now turning to Luke. _She can't mean she wants us to fight a war here, can she?_

Before Luke could answer her, however, Lilina did. "Unfortunately... yes."

Both twins sighed and turned to one another, not sure how to handle this particular situation. "Grandmother..." Luke attempted to begin, but was silenced by the rising hand of Lady Lilina.

"Before you turn me away," She told him, "I need to tell you something. I need to tell you the story of why your grandmother was banished... only then will you understand why I need you to do this for me." Again the twins turned to one another, even more unsure of what to do. Eventually, they nodded.

And Lilina smiled, "Well then... it all started the day my youngest child was born..."

* * *

**Author's Note: Sadly, my original chapter did not get restored when my computer crashed... it was so awful to lose all that data! Apparently OpenOffice files do not get rescued by computers. I did my best to reconstruct the whole chapter, but it has been almost a year since I wrote it. I also tried to keep the ambiguity of Promise alive. Hopefully you all enjoy it!**

**Please don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Right Arm

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

Linina paused as she collected herself, clearly struck by the tale she was about to tell. Luke and Leia waited patiently, very much on edge at the idea of going to war once more. It seemed at this rate, they would never be able to escape conflict.

"Perhaps, to be more honest... He wasn't actually my son. Anakin was born to a witch of a neighboring tribe that had been assaulting our borders relentlessly. After razing several defenseless villages to the ground, my husband, the reigning chief of our tribe, took action.

"The day we entered Indred village was a sad day indeed. I recall it well, having ridden beside my husband into battle, as all Ladies of the Clan Skywalker were expected to do. My own ferocious actions labeled me Lilina the Star."

His eyes locked on hers, Luke earnestly asked her, "How did we become known as Skywalkers?"

With a crooked grin of her own, Lady Lilina replied, "How else?... When we fly, we own the sky."

* * *

Glancing about herself, young Lady Lilina, clad in armor from over her wavy chestnut hair to her sun-bronzed skin, frowned deeply. Her green eyes noted the sad state of the villagers, armed with with menial tools to repair their farm equipment and loose building parts when those failed. Their silent expressions haunted her.

She hated war. But war was a harsh constant of her world.

As she moved from the center of town towards the large, stone and steel establishment, she sighed. They were victorious, and they weren't... It seemed there was no easy way to assess if this was a victory or not. Rumor had it that the only son of the Chief of the Windriders had been born here, a valuable bargaining chip if he wasn't already dead. Personally she hoped he was, knowing full well the mercy of her beloved Ranali.

A sharp squeal caught her attention as the glass lined gears controlling the gates began to swerve to life. When the steel gates of the fortress lifted, she found herself standing beside her eldest son, Demantis. He wasn't an imposing man in height, but had the aura of something to be reckoned with. With shoulder length hair waving much like her own, and green eyes to match, he was the perfect blend of his parent's houses.

"Did they find the child?" She inquired, her voice glum. In the distance, the cries of an infant could be heard, answering her question. Saddened, her eyes turned down.

"Stupid brat didn't know when to die." Demantis spat, stepping towards the sounds ricocheting off the walls. "Now he gets to suffer the long way to death's door."

Yes, her tribe knew mercy... it was a legend spoken of at bedtime to most children. The harsh world of Advorosia held no place for those with tender spirits. They were often banished into distant provinces where brigands terrorized them. Yet despite all of this, Lilina found herself wishing that one day the stories her mother had long spoken of would come true. That a Je'ddai would come to this world and teach them the elements of peace. Of balance. Of compassion.

Finally finding her grit, the woman trudged up the steps into a sparse birthing chamber, complete with HealerDroid. The droid itself was nothing more than a square on wheels, various appendages sticking out its back-side like a giant fan. A large taser-ax was embedded into it, likely on account of her husband.

Before her stood the chief himself, staring at the infant, a boy, covered in blankets as his dead mother bled out. Her husband, a man with wild, streaked hair, frowned at the babe, pulling a small dagger out to maim the child. She grimaced at the thought of hurting such an innocent creature and fought the inclination to step forward and stop Ranali.

Yet, even as he raised the boy's right arm, ready to detach it with the blade he now heated over the furnace, something cried out to stop him.

It was bright, yet dull; loud and yet silent... _a vision._

_Before her stood a blond man, imposing in height and strong as Ranali himself. He fought off hoards of shadows with a glowing sword, no fear in his eyes as he ran. Orange light rained from his fingertips, creating space enough for her to see who he protected._

_A woman with dark hair and dark eyes... eyes that shown a gentle heart so rare to see on Advorosia. Gentler than even Lilina herself._

_And just like that, the vision snapped forward, revealing a man with a prosthetic, his face much like the one before him. Like the first, his clothes were dark, his eyes sad. He turned in response to another, a bearded man with red hair, calling out to him, "Anakin... We'd best move or we'll be late!" The blond man grinned at him, nodding. Slight light returned to his eyes._

_Another snap, this one showing two people dressed in an odd white. A blond man in an armor unlike any she'd ever seen before, and a woman with hair wrapped so intricately, it must have taken hours. "I'm Luke Skywalker." The man told her, "I'm here to rescue you."_

_And, as swiftly as the vision had started, it returned to that fatal battle in the forest. The man defending the woman, "Move it Skywalker!" He shouted at her, "We have to get you to safety!" Even as he spoke, the demons round him swelled up into a dangerous cloud, encircling them once more. And, once more, he donned the great lights of the Force... Red light... Judging light._

_The most uncontrollable light._

As soon as the vision broke, she ran across the room, standing between her husband and the baby with all the determination she could muster. Visions exhausted her, but now was not the time to give in to the weakness.

Brown eyes bulging in frustration, Ranali demanded, "What in the hell are you doing Lilina?" She sighed, almost losing her footing as she kept her position, exhaustion trying to overtake her.

"We cannot harm him." She told the man sternly, making even Demantis lurch in surprise.

Rolling his eyes, Ranali replaced the knife on the heater, trying to bring it to red again, "Of course we can... we must!" he argued, pulling at his long whiskers, "If this boy is allowed to grow into a man with both hands, he might use that hand against us."

Carefully, Demantis pointed out, "It is policy mother... We cannot lose our nerve now."

She frowned, "And what of your child?" she pointed out, "Would you have Seaghdah treat her in such a manner?" Demantis frowned and shook his head.

"My child is not yet born." He pointed out, "But, regardless of that fact, I understand the price one pays when they lose a battle. Had Seaghdah raided into our lands enough, the child would be the one in this boys place. This is the way of of the Great Seven Tribes."

Falling back on the bed and feeling the child role into her, grunting as the newly born do, Lilina fought to keep conscious. She turned to her husband, her eyes pleading.

And she found him thoughtful... "You said 'she'." He noted sagely. She nodded, a tear streaking her cheek, "I presume your sad state is from a vision then?" Her eyes fell to her feet, ashamed at how her gifts always seemed to drain her. "I see." She heard her husband admit, steering round her to lift and inspect the babe.

While supporting the neck carefully, he made note of the hands and feet of the boy, staring into his intense baby blue eyes shortly after. Slowly, a grin spread across his cheeks. "An odd year it is when a man becomes both father and grandfather to small ones." He stated proudly.

Stunned, Demantis dropped his sword, "You can't mean you'll spare the child!" All Ranali did was nod triumphantly, "But father! You and I know all to well that he'll grow to despise us. He'll try to kill us if we don't maim him now! If we let him grow strong!"

Turning his intense hazel eyes her way, Ranali inquired, "Tell me, what does this child really do in our future, beautiful wife?"

She could barely see him now, her fatigue catching up with her. The concern on his face showed her his understanding of the situation. He trusted her visions, her opinions and her heart. But she managed all that she could before blacking out, smiling wide as she announced, "He will guard the best of the Skywalkers." And with that, she was out cold, falling over the corpse of the boy's mother. "Anakin and-." She sighed as she fell into complete slumber.

Chuckling, Ranali raised the boy to look at him once more, "Anakin Windrider, eh?" he surmised with a grin, "Frankly I like the sound of Anakin Skywalker better... but I'm sure we'll all learn to live with it. I'm positive your new brothers wouldn't like it too much if I gave you my name as well... Anakin." And so the man called forth an attendant, ordering that they protect that child with their life and turned to carry his unconscious bride from the birthing room.

All the while, his eldest son stood by, fury building in his eye.

* * *

It had been an eerie day when he'd arrived at the camps of the Cloudrunners. True to their name, they had taken their floating fortresses from the skies and planted them here in the earth, allowing their allies entry into the fertile grounds belonging to his allies. Thanks to the mechanized drills of the fortresses, the metal hovels were near embedded in the sands, unmovable save for the machines that brought them skyward from within.

They had become a blight to his people, lingering there for the week, sending hoards out to attack the locals belonging to his allies. Well, his chief's allies, really.

"Disgusting." the blond man managed to say, scratching at the new scar over his eyebrow when sweat managed to pool there. Beside him sat his adviser, an older man with a long, long red beard and too many years behind him.

He too was frowning, "Agreed, m'lord." he managed to say without coughing, "Nothing pleasant about that smell." And it was a stench. His memories of being thrown into the catacombs by his older brother smelled fairer then this.

Climbing off his speederbike, the man tested the ground carefully before taking a knee and feeling out with his aura. The ground, he noticed, was terribly uneven, no balance of light or dark, only chaos. Watching him closely, his adviser inquired, "Did they bring the Sandthreaders?" Slowly, the general nodded, "How many of them?"

Standing up slowly, the man pulled his folded steel swords from their sheaths and prepared for what he sensed was coming. "Fifty of them." He answered sternly, swiping at the ground before the first of the fiends even had a chance to break free from it.

Instantly, his troops were in panic, some being pulled from their speederbikes by the flying assailants long before they could even chance a strategy. Turning about, the man with wild blond hair and serious blue eyes grinned a little bit. He was a Windrider, after all, and wind owned the sand.

Moving swiftly, the man predicted all the moves of his opponents, showing the foundations behind his infamous nickname 'Goldenwind'. In moments, three of the Sandthreaders were dead, and his men were at last implementing their tribes counter strategy: they began burning the ground.

The general watched with a frown as more than half the attackers swam away through the dirt, escaping their attacks. He spat angrily towards one of the corpses and bent down to inspect them. The sight of the creature baffled him, as they had clearly once been human before something in their lives altered them greatly. The areas around their hands and mouth had been severely manipulated, widening the lips and mouth and placing spikes and pseudo teeth along every crevice of the cavity. The hands themselves were swollen with large nails, likely to improve their speed under ground. Even their skin seemed like that of rocks, with only a few spaces they could be cleaved. Since their discovery, his tribe and been struggling to locate their manufacturing plant and stop their attacks.

It had taken Gerali two weeks to spot a weakness in their armor that Anakin could exploit.

Beside him knelt his adviser, who continued to stare at the creature with interest as the field fires raged to twice their height. "We'd best take this back to Prince Gerali." He suggested, "I'm sure his scholars will serve us well with such a preserved specimen." Slowly the younger man nodded.

"Have some of the men salt all the bodies." He suggested, "Gerali would prefer his subjects pristine." He then rose and inspected the marks on his speederbike, noticing that something had bit off his brake. He frowned and raised his hand towards a migrane that was forming. It was going to take hours to fix this... and he didn't trust a soul to help him with it. Save for her.

Glancing up the stars, he let himself feel some of the frustration leave his body. He noticed how this evening, the stars managed to sparkle past the Je'ddai barrier. It was rare to see such sights, seeming as the storms that surrounded their world were relentless. And, to his own surprise, he found himself hoping she was noticing this too.

It would put her at peace to know that the stars hadn't forgotten their world.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, here is a quick snippet. Chapters will be shorter with this particular story and updates will not be very frequent, but I'll do what I can. I'm very excited about actually introducing you all to my vision of Advorosia... it has some Star Wars tech, but not all of it, so you'll have to excuse if some things are explained to be different from what you normally see in Star Wars. They are on the edge of the galaxy, after all, and haven't had contact with the rest of the Republic since the time of the Je'ddai. **

**Please let me know what you think! I love reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3: Shmi's Return

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

It had been some time since she'd last seen the capital, what with her recent duties pulling her beyond the borders to the forested lands of the Treedweller clans. The sight of the golden city, glistening in the morning sun touched a tender spot in her heart. Some of her happiest, and saddest, memories were made here, and she treasured the great citadel of Stavo unlike any other place in the world.

From the gardens climbing along side the cliff walls, to the breathtaking waterfalls lining them, Stavo was a glistening jewel unlike any other on Advorosia. And she was it's princess.

The ships were swift to make port, lowering the landing ramps with mechanical clanging and banging. She maneuvered round the massive columns that served as feet meant to balance the grand structures. Each ship had been large enough to house twenty land-crawlers maximum, though her entourage only required three amongst the variety of smaller weapons stored inside.

Full capacity seemed a tad overzealous for dealing with the indigenous, despite their status as an empire.

Crossing a great courtyard of decorative gold beams and gray stone, the woman moved proudly in her regal attire. Consisting of a teal tunic with leather shift and gold belt, she felt beautiful. Yet, her dark harem pants and traveling boots gave her the freedom of feeling mobile. Her father always said she crossed too many paths in her day, so she made sure to be ready for any of those turns when they came for her.

With light brown eyes sparkling in the suns light, and wavy chestnut hair pulled back into twin braids, she marched directly into the castle with good news. The castle itself was rather contemporary looking, compared to the stone halls she'd dwelled in whilst in the deep woods. Steel comprised the walls, keeping the dirt from hiding in the crevices that mortar often left wide in stone construction.

Her great, great, great grandfather, Ranali the first had been the one to construct such a space, re-emphasizing the importance of the technology brought to Advorosia by the Drajdai millenia ago. His vast infatuation with technology was only rivaled by her own, unquenchable thirst to understand the inner workings of any given thing.

Such as the gears that turned her beloved father's court.

She entered the grand doors, each laden with forged images of the great wars between clans, and stepped into the amphitheater styled hall that was her father's throne room. He sat before her, a little heavier than the last, but still as unshakable as he'd always been. His beard and mane now resembled his father at that age, lined with streaks of gray and white as they fought to overtake his scalp. Slight creases lined his eyes as fatigue ate away at his youth. Yet his green eyes shown bright, much like his reverent mother's always had.

With a great grin on his full lips, Demantis, Lord of Stavo, Chief of the Tribe Skywalker, the Erdgos Mountains and the Windrider Provinces, welcomed her home. And he did so unconventionally.

"Shmi!" He cried out, standing to cross the hall past a dignitary prostrating himself on the floor. She smiled widely, leaping into his embrace. She could barely utter the words father amongst his jubilee, "How was your trip?" The man demanded of her merrily, to which she shrugged, "More so, how was the peace talks with the Treedwellers?"

Stepping back to report properly as the merchant on the floor stood back up, Shmi nodded to her father and admitted, "Lord Mikos of Searing Forest has promised his undying commitment to the alliance of the Seven Tribes, namely to that of the acting chief of the Skywalkers." She presented to him the HoloDocument to prove it, along side a ceremonial dagger for her father to wear.

It was carved from the tusk of a Gargatapir, large beasts that dwelled within Searing Forest. Lord Mikos himself had hunted the beast, providing his home with ample food and supply for the feast of peace that preceded her receiving this bejeweled gift. With great pride, her father took the piece of art from her small hands and admired the handiwork involved in its design. With a great nod, he gave her his approval, signaling that his break from protocol was over for the day.

"You serve our lands well, princess." He told her, applause raining down on both of them before turning about to return to his duties with the merchants guild of Stavo Castle Town. She could see in his eyes that a feast all her own was soon to be planned that evening, one he announced as he returned to his chair. A feast met with as much applause as she'd garnered.

Shmi grinned to herself, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear as attention fell from her back to the issue at hand. She roamed the edges of the amphitheater with her hands laced behind her back. Well, in her mind she felt as though she was swimming through a crowd of open-mouthed fish. Each and every step she took was met with curious onlookers, firing off 'respectful' questions as she made her way. Polite and kind, she did her best to answer every query, growing more exhausted with each step.

It took her nearly half an hour to reach the ones she sought, her two, twin uncles, Gerali and Uthias. They both stood considerably taller than her. Even her father did not meet their chins without some assistance. Yet, they were an odd pair all on their own, without others to compare to.

Gerali kept his curling hair long and tied back, a slight beard lining his jaw and brows that should be nearly as manicured, but were not. He wore the robes of a scholar, being one of the best in the land. Many found his constant gusto for life entertaining, if not distracting. Rarely silent, save for when he read, he was one of the few talkers that her father stomached patience to listen to. He was considered a Silver warrior, having mastered three of the seven sacred lights. All feared him, save for the one man who outshined his talent.

Uthias was more conservative in his appearance, wearing slacks and minimal jewels. He worked primarily in the city, serving as liaison between the Merchant Council and her father's council. This meeting before them had been at his orchestration. A beard all his own, and a permanent slight smile, he was sage-like. And the man seemed quite comfortable listening. He rarely spoke unless he felt necessary and was believed to carry the strongest voice in the land. Her father, not once, ever doubted him.

Though she desired to hug them, her father's break in protocol had already been one taboo for the day. The cold distance between people founded by the Drajdai when they'd first arrived continued to taint the courts of all their descendants, something which frustrated Shmi. She sensed a warmth in people and waited patiently for her chance to ignite the flames of their spirits.

"Uncle Gerali." She nodded, addressing the oldest first, "Uncle Uthias." They each nodded to her in kind, "It is so good to see you! Tell me, how are my little cousins?"

Grinning wildly, Gerali pronounced, "All well, save for one." He paused and frowned deeply, "Your cousin Kayala was married while you were gone to a Stonebreaker." Stunned, Shmi's jaw dropped. She could almost picture the buffoon her cousin had been harping to her about prior to her departure. "Your father was so mad, he put a bounty on her."

Uthias shook his head at that unfriendly reminder while Shmi shook her head, "That seems a bit steep."

Shrugging, her uncle reminded her, "Has there ever been a day your father didn't follow through on his word?" She sighed at that, recalling the threat the minute the buffoon had been mentioned. "Queen Brida was especially displeased, which I think fueled the snap."

Frowning, Shmi turned directly to the one in question, now seated on the throne beside her father, half-brother on her lap. Brida.

Shmi had no enemies, but she did have people she was wary of. Since the day her father took the Cloudrunner woman as his second wife, the entire court went from cold to frozen. It seemed that every dictation, every political step was her tactic, a strategy played through her willing father. More edicts had passed through this hall assisting the Cloudrunner nation than those protecting the Skywalker Clan in the past seven years, something that irked the ever level Shmi. Especially when at least two of those edicts left her people hungry through a cold winter.

She loved her father tremendously, but feared what would become of her people should he continue to have this wife.

"Is there anything that can be done for Kayala?" She inquired of Gerali and Uthias quietly. Both shrugged.

"Stay out of it." Uthias told her firmly, "Time might sooner save her than you." She nodded, understanding as she watched the wicked woman, who sat with beaded hair pulled back tightly into an oversized bun while her child sat in her lap, playing with her fingers.

Shmi never understood why Sarantis was made to sit through these long meetings. His red locks were always cut tight to his head, to keep him from toying with them while bored, and his clothes as intricate and uncomfortable as possible. A child was best at play in her mind. It seemed her half-brother would likely agree.

Unable to bear the pleading in her brother's eyes any longer, she excused herself from her uncles and tiptoed up the throne's steps to whisper in her father's ear. Brida likely did not see her, for the angle by which she moved was shielded by a great pillar. Her father, however, seemed unsurprised that she was already on the move with requests.

"Father?" She inquired, as his eyes continued to mind the merchant, "Poor Sarantis looks ready to die of boredom..." She noticed how his eyes darted over towards the boy, his only son, "Perhaps I might learn all I'd missed these past few months from him."

Grinning a little, Demantis leaned towards Brida, "Go with your sister boy." He ordered, bringing a frown to his beautiful queen's face.

"The boy must learn." She told him, her cold voice low.

Chuckling, Demantis shook his head, "Hardly... He'll not rule before Shmi, and she'll keep a peace that will spare him _that_ agony." Shmi smiled with pride and watched as her step-mother scowled wickedly her way. It took a great deal not to smile directly at her.

With a worried glance towards his mother, and a second bark from his father, Sarantis soon jumped free of his mother's clutches and took the offered hand of his half-sister. "Hello, Sara." She greeted him in a sing-song way.

"Hi Mimi!" he giggled, using his pet name for her, since his stutter constantly prevented proper pronunciation of her name. The consonant cluster was just too much for his trembling tongue. It was for that reason only that she began to call him Sara, offering him an easier way to identify himself and a chance to be confident in what he could do. His mother constantly reminded him of what he could not. Shmi was convinced that only perpetuated the issue.

Wanting desperately to carry the five-year-old out of the court the way her father did when she was a child, Shmi fought the inclination... So long as she was in front of Brida. They walked together, grinning, towards the grand doors, passing through the smaller entrances inside them easily.

Walking down the halls, she finally was able to snatch her little brother up, spinning wildly with him for a moment, despite the fact that a few maids passed them by. She knew those maids were loyal to the Skywalkers. It was the Cloudrunner maids she had to be wary of.

As her brother giggled away, she pulled him close once more and asked, "So... what is new in the life of the young prince?"

He smirked up at her, a smile she recognized from her father and answered, "Mama told me it was time to learn writing. I can make my name now on HoloDocs." She raised a brow at both the accomplishment of his perfect sentence and his new skill. There was even an air of confidence in him that filled her with pride.

"You will have to show me." She sang to him, tapping the tip of his nose. Another trait she'd learned from her mother... she made touching someone's nose the sweetest gesture on the planet. As Sara giggled at the prospect, they reached the main doors of the castle, passing by them to head to the gardens.

As they neared the foyer before the door, the creaking and screeching of the turning gears alerted them both to a large party entering the palace. Pausing in the hall, they observed as a team of soldiers entered the space, soldiers belonging to the Goldenwind.

Anakin Windrider followed them, frustration etched into his face beneath a brand new scar that lined his brow. Dressed still in his mail and leather armors, each enhanced in the scholars halls using old and new technology, the man looked fierce. He was half a head taller than most of his men, just barely shorter than her uncles, and built with muscle like her father had been in his prime. His gait was that of a man who knew power. The power of a Golden Warrior. A master of four sacred lights.

Hence the name 'Goldenwind.'

Shmi didn't bother greeting him and his men as they passed, despite the fact that all his commanders bowed to her as appropriate before continuing. He didn't even glance her way, too busy planning his next battle with the chief turned king. A bad habit of his.

She only prayed that this time he'd still his tongue before being sentence to the mines again.

Apparently Sara was also worried about this, "Is Ani going to fight with daddy again?" he asked her, all concern in his green eyes. She sighed, unsure of how to answer that question as she turned to resume her path to the gardens.

No force in existence could get her back into the throne room knowing both Demantis Skywalker and Anakin Windrider were there. That was like watching two stars collide in the night sky. Nothing good ever came from it.

* * *

As the grand doors parted, Anakin spied his prey. Many would have believed it was the great lord himself, but there was never a day he plotted betrayal to the bearded man. No... his bitch of a wife though: a completely different story.

As the crowd parted for what they knew would be another death match, he spied his quarry. Seated on the throne, her puppet son out of sight. _Thank the Gods._ The last thing he wanted to do was scare Sara again. The poor boy had witnessed one of his prior matches with Demantis and avoided him for two months. That had been painful.

Though not nearly as painful as this was about to be. He was going to say it. Spit it out. End this pointless game.

"Windrider." Demantis growled, standing from his throne, "What brings you to this place? You were to be handling the rebelling Cloudrunners to the east!" When Anakin offered no answer, Demantis descended the steps into the pit with him, "Did your cowardliness turn your tail?"

Taking a deep breath, Anakin outright said, "Hardly... I merely realized it was fool-hearty spending six months taking orders from a Cloudrunner bitch." He sensed it in the crowd, Gerali and Uthias had looked away. They had warned him against this action the last time he'd threatened to state his opinions before the court.

"How dare you!" Demantis roared, striking him across the face. Anakin's conditioning, however, allowed him to stand strong. "To speak out against your queen, my wife!"

Cocking his head to the side, Anakin pointed out, "If she is my queen, then whey do her decisions thin the numbers of my men for her _former_ people?"

She stood, shouting at the top of her lungs, "We have alliances with those people! Treaties which must be protected during both their and our time of need!" Spitting at her, the one move that always managed to infuriate his brother in its insult, Anakin turned away from her and addressed his king.

"I just came from a battlefield where nearly two thirds my men fell... and nearly all her _people_ escaped unscathed, hiding their numbers in the forests to make it appear they were harmed!" He shouted, "And you are telling me we need be concerned with alliances? We need be concerned with the serpent dwelling within our walls, tipping the scales against us!" A crack sounded as Demantis's knuckles met with his jaw, but Anakin was swift enough to dodge most of the blow.

Though it was tempting to fight the man again, his last bout with his brother landed him inconveniently out of commission for three months. Instead, he attempted to cool his head and took to one knee. "I request that Lord Gerali's scholars investigate this observed phenomenon and will not heed command until I know my men are not to be betrayed."

Hissing, Demantis fought the urge to kick him, realizing that letting his temper go at the one person he truly hated would not bode well for the merchant's community. His mind worked swiftly, attempting to find some means to punish him once more for his insolent behavior. "Very well." Demantis sighed, "Gerali's men will investigate your allegations... But you, during this time, will continue your service to the east. You will replenish supply and leave tomorrow before the first morning light... or forfeit your head." He noticed how Anakin flinched at the threat, knowing all too well that Demantis meant it.

But just as the man was about to turn about, their mother stepped into the circle. Though she was older and more frail, she still held the authority that even made Brida tremble. "You will take that threat back Demantis." She commanded.

Pausing mid-step, the man exhaled an exhausted sigh before addressing that comment, "The man has insulted both myself and my wife... I see this _compromise_ as sufficient, given the crime."

Lilina, now haggard with white hair, scowled at him, "And you forget your place, Demantis. This title of king you boast is nothing more than a formality. You rule as chief-regent at my discretion. I'll not permit a son of mine to be in power while threatening his brothers. Recant the threat."

It was always painful when she did this, utilizing her right as executive ruler to weaken his word. Demantis had already figured Anakin to be his mother's favorite, and in her old age, this fact was pressed against his nose far more than any other. So, to maintain his good graces with the woman, he nodded and acquiesced.

So long as Lilina died with him in power, what did it matter if he had to appease the old woman a little more.

Yet still, he noticed how cocky Anakin got. He withheld no frustration from the courts and outright embarrassed Demantis to get what he wanted. If Lilina was present, his way prevailed. If not, Anakin's gamble often suffered a sufficient loss. Something pleasurable to Demantis.

So, knowing when to pick his battles, Demantis snarled and nodded his surrender, watching his mother's face light up. He also noticed how Anakin seemed to sigh in relief. "Gerali will lead the investigation." he informed them, "Now get out of my sight!"

Nodding, bowing, whatever he did, as Demantis turned round, Anakin left the hall. The door slammed hard, echoing fiercely for those who remained.

* * *

**Author's Note: I confess, I am really enjoying this, as it is so different from Promise. Whereas I normally attempt to stay in line with the rules of the world, this environment is mine and so I feel a lot more freedom. Conversely, I also have to explain a lot more about the places we go to. Hopefully the world seems clear to you all. Please let me know what you think in a review! Could you see this world in hiding away at the edge of the galaxy?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: The Gardens

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

The gardens were expansive. They were a place anyone could get lost in if they so desired. Shmi's mother, Shea, believed that they were also something the whole tribe should enjoy. Back when it still fit that classification, anyway.

Centered in the middle of Castle Stavo, the gardens were comprised of a great courtyard, a small path to the outer walls and then most of the southern expanse of the cliff their home stood upon. Plants had been brought in from all across Advorosia, each one representing a conquest or victory to one of her ancestors. So many wars had been fought in the south, that the inner courtyard soon appeared nothing more than cavernous jungle. Something Shmi used to enjoy with all her friends as a child until her mother's passing.

The burbling brook, the tall grasses, the various flowers; these were all gifts to the people. Now, under the reign of Brida, only those labeled of highest stature were allowed in. Well, to be more specific, the highest stature to her. The only exceptions to this rule were, of course, the crown princess and the high general.

Sarantis was another who was often banished from this place, since his mother came here to retreat from her 'motherly duties' on a regular basis. The child was so banished from light, his skin had become unhealthily pale. Shmi often feared what real time under the sun would do to him now and vowed that no son of hers would be so starved of sunlight while she was alive.

At the moment, Sara was playing hide and seek with her, having climbed the same tree he always did to surprise her. And she always acted the surprised one, if only to encourage him to try more clever hideaways. His confidence was her number one concern whenever she came home, and it wasn't just because he was her only sibling.

It was because that, while she offered her no ill will, Shmi knew there was darkness in Brida. And she would not allow that darkness into Sarantis while she still breathed.

"Where are you?" She inquired in a singsong fashion, poking her nose through the grasses as always, "Sara?" And, as predicted, when she paused, the child leaped out of the tree and onto her back. His laughter alone had given him away long before he'd landed.

And Shmi could only laugh, even as she raced around the gardens as though a small child herself.

Yet, as she ran, she was so engrossed in pleasing poor Sara that she hadn't stretched her aura wide enough to predict interference. Her nose contacted the leather breastplate of a tall warrior as he entered the space with a thud. Naturally, as he had the weight advantage, she fell, Sara rolling off her back in hysterics as she did. "Damn it all!" She grumbled, pulling herself from the ground to scold her new obstacle.

"It's your fault." Came the snide retort of a familiar voice.

She raised her eyes to the tall, blond man as Sara rejoiced and jumped into his arms, "Ani!" he cried out, "You're back!" Raised up high as the man appraised him, Sara beamed with pride. Shmi could only grin as she pulled herself from the ground, appraising the sight with joy. _This is what I want for him from Brida and father._ She realized somberly, knowing that her poor, misguided father could only meet her halfway in this wish.

His own childhood had been far too obstructed for anything more. It was something she quickly learned to forgive with him as a youth.

"What was it like fighting Cloudrunner rebels?" Sara immediately demanded of Anakin, his green eyes wide in awe as the man took him towards one of the many sitting areas in the jungle-like gardens. Shmi followed after him, curious herself of what sorts of hells he'd endured just to get back here. "Were they well armed? Are there really a new tribe of Sandthreaders? It must have been so scary!"

_Again,_she had to notice, _No stutter... It's purely psychological at this point._

"Well," Anakin mused, seating himself on one of the wooden benches alongside where the small brook became more rapid in place of babbling, "I'm not sure such stories are best for one so young."

"Tell me!" Sara pleaded, sporting his best begging face just for the man. Anakin could only smile at him, even while Shmi stifled a laugh as she seated herself in another chair across the way. She understood that for a boy raised in such culture, the events of warrior's lives like Anakin's would always be just a tad more interesting than her diplomatic adventures.

Not that she couldn't handle a blade or her own lights.

"Well, the rebels had stolen some of the Cloudfortresses from Citadel, disappearing into the mists around their capital and following the river Granis down stream." The way he spoke, his eyes growing wide with amazement all his own, directed the enthusiasm of the boy. His expression also forced a slight laugh from Shmi herself as she listened with equal intent, "We tracked them to the Tanna Desert, where the clouds could no longer cover the grand vehicles, and proceeded to clip their wings with our cannons-"

"-Which I'm sure delighted you ever so much." Queen Brida suddenly interjected, her harsh eyes falling on Anakin first in the group. "Now, if I might collect my son, as he has afternoon writing lessons."

The frown on poor Sara's face touched Shmi deeply, yet even she could not denounce the importance of those lessons. "Perhaps Anakin can finish the story later." She suggested, "When we meet for evening meal even, as I am sure Uncle Gerali will be quite interested as well."

Even as Sara began to cheer, his mother did away with it, "Absolutely not." She chided the young woman, "Anakin's inflations of reality are hardly necessary in raising a proper king." To that, Anakin stood stoically, his eyes trained on the queen who only now just realized her mistake.

"Odd you would say that." He pointed out to her, "Seeming as Shmi grew with these same tales and is next to rule. Not your son." Then, as Sara let go of his hand to shuffle back towards his mother, Anakin added, "Perhaps your tongue slips your intended treason?"

Quick as ever, the serpent-tongued woman recollected herself with new poise, "Only as much as your own, general." Shmi's brow furrowed at that comment and she stood by silently as the queen strode away, dragging her brother as he fought tears of indignation.

Anakin continued to stand and stare, his aura radiating his frustration as he took deep breaths to calm it. Shmi, however, remained at her seat, her clever mind working to unravel what new challenge Brida soon planned to unleash on them. "We'd best watch her." Her comrade soon inserted, having found a voice that sounded as level as he'd desired. Shmi nodded.

"And you'd best mind your temper." She pointed out, "You've left far too much room for her to finagle a new tall tale about you. We don't need her accusing you of trying for the throne." Indignant, Anakin turned about to face the woman, his silvery-blue eyes hurt and angry.

"As if anyone would believe that." He reminded her with slight frustration, "The whole tribe knows I serve Queen Lilina faithfully and you to follow." She shook her head.

Standing, she approached the tall man and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, not noticing the bird cawing in the distance, "Anakin," she carefully explained, "We aren't just a small country anymore. In the last ten years, we have become a new nation... and that makes all things far more complicated than when we were children. We are large now. What we learned to be true must be adapted as Brida plays her games."

Spitting off to the side, Anakin returned towards the bench, knowing full well that Shmi would not tolerate the insult. He just didn't fear the repercussions anymore. All he faced were repercussions; what else was there to fear?

Shmi, of course, swallowed her own frustrations and desire to slap the man in exchange for stomping in front of him and taking his face in her hands to force his eyes back on hers. "I agree." Was all she said, "Never forget that I agree that this is insanity. We did not need to grow. Grandfather wanted to and now we have to live in this lovely transitional phase." She then paused as he forced his face free and looked away from her, recalling the man that had spared his life with a sigh, "What we do now will either protect us or destroy us. Please, please help me with the former."

He sighed and nodded, bringing a smile to her face. "I hate it when you scold me." He pointed out to her, turning that silver blue gaze back her way while he took a new seat on the bench, "It makes me think of all those times when you bossed me around as a child."

Stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, Shmi reminded him, "You needed guidance as a child." He smirked at her, leaving the temptation near irresistible for her to add, "As an adult though, you occasionally need a good thwack on the head." They both snorted a laugh.

"This coming from princess-whole-between-her-ears." Anakin retorted, scooting over for Shmi to sit beside him. She turned an inquisitive eye his way.

"Well, I need all that space for my big brain." She informed the man slyly, as though the fact were obvious. He snickered slightly, leaning back on the bench to stare at the sky though the green leaves, which was now a faint gold as the day passed by.

"You call it a brain." He suddenly added, needing that last word. And Shmi let him have it, just once.

They sat in silence, knowing that in an hours time they would be called to evening meal and the circus that accompanied it. Taking a deep breath, Shmi allowed her aura to extend outwards, feeling Anakin's potent force as well as the many guards tiptoeing about the two. Two she recognized as friends from when she was young, but the remaining six...

"I hate all the eyes on me." She eventually admitted, "Even around you, I cannot be myself anymore, lest a single offhand comment be twisted into something vile." Feeling Anakin nod as he closed his eyes, she continued her complaint, "I miss being a child too. I can't even wrestle you anymore-"

"-not that you'd win-"

"-I would too, you ass." She retorted matter-of-factly, only making him smile wider at the challenge. He sat forward, leaning on his arms with a slight grin on his face, his silver-blue eyes proving he was up to something. Shmi had to focus to understand what: one of the Cloudrunner guards was listening in.

When he knew she'd caught on to his discovery, he coyly pointed out, "A swearing princess... what will the aristocracy think?" And she bit the joke head on, wanting nothing more than to have a laugh at someone else's shock. Her following statement started with a subtle, "You mean those lard ass, kriffen, ..." and continued on until she ran out of insults to spill.

By the end, Anakin was too busy laughing at her use of the many words (he'd taught her.) And Shmi was no better, sensing the exact reaction of the soldier now running off to report in. "When was the last time we'd tortured our guards like that?" He wanted to know, to which she offered no estimation.

"We were children." She replied, "That's all I remember." She then took a deep breath, shaking her head, "You know... Normally I hate cursing, it seems that I only enjoy spitting out such vile words in your company. Perhaps Brida is right that you contaminate all you touch." Shrugging, Anakin stood up and began to pace.

"I only contaminate what she plans to do." He commented, "Father's not yet dead a year and here we are catering to the lowly Cloudrunners! Peoples even my true father wouldn't contend with." Turning about, he admitted to her, "I had to watch so many men die in ways more vile than any composition of words. My men. Not even their men suffered as ours did... and I feel like I'm betraying them every time I swallow my pride and follow her disguised lead." His fury, his hurt, his passion on the topic was now starting to pollute his aura, touching Shmi so deeply, she stood and wrapped her arms round him from the back.

"You strive to protect." She pointed out to him as his hands fell on her own, "And that is a good thing. But you must learn to be satisfied when you have done all you can, especially with yourself." He was silent, rubbing her hands wearily as he fought to resume control over his wild emotions.

"You're right." He eventually conceded, "As always."

She smiled and stepped back, allowing him to turn around and smile back at her, "Not always." She reminded him, "But about you, I'm never wrong. There is a reason so many love you, despite your heritage. And that reason _is_ your unending loyalty to everyone." He grinned to that statement and nodded.

"Thank you." He replied, "I need to hear that from time to time." She smiled and was about to comment once more when her eyes darted round to someone else entering the space.

"Anakin!" Came the gruff voice of one the twins, Gerali, "There you are!" He cried out at the sight of them, rushing forward down the path, with Uthias at his heels. Grumbling something to himself, the man nearly stomped into the clearing, a clear message in his green eyes.

"Uncle Gerali?" Shmi inquired, unsure of the situation that spawned the anger on her uncle's face. He ignored her, his target in sight.

Taking a deep breath as Uthias joined the ring, the man began to fume loudly, "What is the big idea, storming into court like you own the place and calling the queen a bitch? Have you lost your head?"

"I almost did." Anakin grinned, recalling the threat from earlier, "Thank goodness mother wouldn't hear of it." That only seemed to make Gerali redder. Yet Uthias was the one to comment.

He solemnly added, "One day she will not be there to save you, Ani."

Turning his eyes away, Anakin nodded and stared at a small bug crawling on the yellow petals of a nearby flower. He said nothing, afraid to speak to the two more cunning of the group.

Carefully, Gerali pressed, "It is very obvious what Brida wants to do to all of us. Though hushed at the court, everyone is waiting for her to make the mistake that spells her undoing. Don't go helping her keep her stature by being impatient." He set his hands on the man's shoulders, a pleading in his emerald eyes unlike any other. Slowly, Anakin turned to face him.

Shmi read his interest in his eyes, and voiced his question, equally curious. "And what mistake are we waiting for, dear uncles?" As soon as the words left her lips, she felt their auras stretch wide, seeking the guards in the vicinity. When it was apparent all were out of earshot, likely thanks to Shmi swearing up a storm, Gerali smiled.

"We're waiting for her to show her true colors."

Uthias nodded beside him, elaborating, "Brida's constant defense of the Cloudrunners will soon stretch our finances thin. Money will need to be redirected from several of your father's projects, projects of which outweigh the value of any treaty or alliance." Anakin smiled at the idea, seeing exactly where this is going. But soon after, he frowned.

"It might show her overall allegiance." He pointed out, "But if they plan to invade, we will be quite vulnerable." That was when Uthias donned a grin much like his twin brother's clever one.

"Not really."

It took the two a moment, but the moment the idea struck them, the two younger present soon had to chuckle some. Shmi, herself, needed to hear confirmation of her own hypothesis, "You've altered the books." The slight smirk of Uthias told her all she needed to know.

He was about to speak more, but an early evening meal bell sounded over the gardens. The four of them turned towards one another, wondering what it could possibly mean. Only Shmi remembered what it was.

"My feast!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope the history over the time skip isn't super confusing. Perhaps you can tell me if you followed along. Essentially, in the 20 years since Anakin was born, the Skywalker Tribe evolved into a kingdom-like nation, forcing all sorts of social changes as they blend in with new territories. Anakin's own tribe was already formed into one of these larger nations when the Skywalkers invaded, spurring their own growth some. **

**Anyways, please let me know what you think! And thank you to those of you who already do!**


	5. Chapter 5: Seed of Doubt

_**Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun.**_

* * *

It was no surprise to her that her father had pushed for such a reception on her behalf. The dining hall, while normally a regal space comprised of durasteel with stone embellishments, was now a din of diplomats lined with floral arrangements and large cuisine.

The columns with woven bands of stone and steel were fitted with her favorite flowers, purple blossoms growing in stalks of sweet scents called leias. They were unnatural to the cold mountain air surrounding Stavo, which could only have meant that her father pulled a few strings to bring them to this hall.

Finding all her favorite foods sprinkled across the long tables, Shmi smiled to herself as she took the place of honor beside her father. "You shouldn't have." She informed the man with a wide grin and full blush, "This is hardly necessary."

Raising a goblet to his lips, Demantis hid a grin of his own, "I've tried for ages to gain the respect of the Treedwellers… and you gain it in just three months time." He toasted her silently with a raised glass before drinking down his choice beverage, a syrupy colored drink with a high alcohol content called Kuhla, before adding, "I personally think this celebration too small for you, my dear."

Still a bit flushed, Shmi turned her gaze towards her uncles, seeing the matching emerald gaze of the twins alongside the tired silver blue of Anakin's. It was clear in all pairs of eyes that they were proud of her. But she was not ready to be proud of herself.

There was still too much to do, and right now her mind was only on one cause.

"Father." she suddenly leaned in as her plate was filled by a server droid, "How long do you foresee my staying before being sent on another diplomatic mission?" By the way his mustache twitched, it was apparent that he hadn't thought on the topic.

"Is there a reason for this question?" He tried carefully, showing her with his emerald eyes that she was treading into deep water. "Do you wish to leave me so soon?"

Shaking her head, Shmi raised her own glass, "No, in actuality, I was going to ask you to allow me to stay a full year before being sent out once more." Demantis grinned and pulled Shmi in towards him tenderly with his strong left arm, his beard rubbing against her cheek. Typically, such affection would be toasted by the attendees, but Shmi thanked her luck that performers had entered the hall at that moment.

"I think we can arrange for another to play ambassador for a time."

Smiling wide, Shmi kissed the man's cheek, ready for her next question as her eyes fell on two entering the hall: Brida and her guard. All stood, the performers stopping, as was protocol for the entrance of the queen. Pristine in manner, movement and appearance, Brida found her chair to the right of the king and sat down, prompting all others to follow.

Once the roar of celebrators resumed, Shmi again leaned towards her father's ear. "I see that the queen is working a great deal at your side while tending to Sarantis's growth. Perhaps I can assist her while I remain at home, grooming my brother for his roles by my side." Knowing this would be a point of contention between him and his wife, Demantis cast a wary eye towards Shmi. Yet she insisted, "If he is to be my regent or general someday, we'd best learn to work together, shan't we?"

"Certainly, I'd hope he'd follow Uthias's role." her father pointedly inserted, "And not that Anakin."

Smiling, Shmi nodded her understanding, "I too worry for him. It is for that reason that I wish to ensure that his trust in me is sound. Perhaps if I were to care for him while the queen assists you in your labors, we could merge two tasks to one." It was clear that this answer would not come quickly, especially as her father brought a hand to his beard.

"I'll give it some thought." He acquiesced, garnering him a kiss on the cheek from his gleeful daughter.

Shortly after, her Uncle Gerali stood tall, his glass level to his eyes, "A toast to our princess, the light of this land!" he called, to which all men and women present raised their full glasses in agreement. Shmi flushed a moment, her face growing red still as that same uncle strode across the room to pull her from her chair.

"As center of the celebration," he informed the young woman, "It is your prerogative to dance with your dear uncles at least twice." She chuckled as she was pulled to the floor, falling into step with the others present at this feast. While her uncle twirled her round as their stance like steps matched with the beat of flutes and drums alike, she spotted many of her childhood friends, all seated beside some young warrior of their own, their arms looped together possessively.

It was likely she would be the only one of them to actually be merry at this feast.

As the dance switched from one tune to the next, a set of guitares joining in, Shmi found her uncles trading places, Uthias now guiding her down the floor with a grin. And she was grateful for this: while her old friends had their flames, she had the firm foundation of a loving family, a treasure she cherished before locking away in her chest every night. Yes, at moments they were odd, but that granted her the freedom of being odder.

Demantis watched from afar the jubilee of his daughter on the floor. Since Gerali had stolen her from her chair, numerous others had joined the dance floor. Many of them were old friends of his, from the days when life was much simpler. Others were clearly newcomers to the performance. To his disdain, none were suitors from his own land. Cloudrunner males were swimming around his daughter, and, while he was fond of his own Cloudrunner wife…

"Do their eyes have to betray them so?" He complained to his wife. She merely shrugged, glancing away.

"When Cloudrunner men see beauty, they stare." She informed him, her nose twisting up, "Then they swoon and sweet talk… But they are good men." It took all he had not to spit at that statement. Regardless of the ties between then, Demantis still had a sore spot in his chest when discussing his former opponents.

"I'll be the judge of that." He ignored her scowl in the corner of his eye after saying that.

Again, the tune changed, and so did the uncle. He watched, fighting his own grin of amusement, as several of those formerly imposing Cloudrunner men stepped back a few paces, offering the Windrider some room. And Anakin being Anakin, made it a point to steer Shmi into every hiding place those fools could find, herding them around the dance floor with a mischievous grin on his face. A grin Demantis could not resist employing on himself as he watched his beloved daughter laugh heartily.

Brida observed this as well, complaining all the while, "Will that brat ever grow up?"

"As if you'd known him from childhood well enough to make that speculation." Demantis chortled, "This is him matured… unfortunately." He couldn't resist smiling at the sight. Anakin was always tolerable when Shmi was around as she tempered his fits quite well.

"You'd be better off executing him." Brida retorted, taking a sip from her goblet. Dematis frowned at the sobering statement, he himself agreeing at almost any other point in time. In fact, he offered no reply to her, his mood suddenly quite dark. "I don't know why you allow him to court. You could just as easily send him far away to some place exceptionally dangerous and your mother would never know." He turned to her, his eyes stern, forcing her to temper her tone, "I am sorry, dear." she kissed his cheek sweetly, "I just can't stand how he berates you so."

"Nor can I." He reminded her, "But everything in its due time."

Again, they were silent a moment, watching the dancing with no merriment between them. The dance soon ended, with Anakin being pulled aside by one of his usual flavors of the week. This time, it was one of Shmi's childhood friends who'd been recently widowed. That soured his mood even more.

Shmi stood on her own in the center of the room, not one person offering their hand to dance with her. He could never understand why this happened_; she isn't intimidating in the slightest._ With a sigh, he stood and turned about, not wanting to watch that lost look on his daughter's face. He didn't want to believe she would live her life alone.

* * *

As the feast ended far later into the night than she'd intended, Shmi walked over towards the columns where the flowers hung, gathering a small cluster of leias to carry back to her chambers. The party had been fun, all-be-it a bit lonesome, but she had been expecting that.

Stepping out towards the pleasure gardens once more to cross towards her own quarters, Shmi sighed as she inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. Passing through the small pond area, she stopped, recalling how her mother used to sit near the small fall there and meditate. Suddenly nostalgic, she walked over towards the now un-worn patch of grass and set her bouquet down, closing her eyes to fill them with clarity.

A clarity she already understood.

"You shouldn't let it bother you so much." Came the familiar voice of Anakin, "Those people are afraid of you because you achieve the impossible all the time. How are they supposed to compare to that?"

Frowning, Shmi turned to face him, surprised that he wasn't hidden away in some open room with her old friend. He approached her, a frown on his face as he too fell to his knees to meditate. "You've befriended more tribes with your words than your grandfather ever united with his sword. I've heard rumors you're using some sort of Shaetin magic." He added coyly. She smirked and shook her head.

"If only it were that simple." She admitted, "I've just decided that I will not conform to the past, when I know I can forge a better future. And I think I am not the only one." She pointed this out to him as her gaze fell back on his. He shrugged, his grin fading.

"If anything, I perpetuate the past." he admitted, "Four lights under my belt, and every time I use them, I feel so lost for a time afterwards. My birth father used them so much, he was convinced that any opinion besides his own was false, and I am always so afraid I've inherited his addiction." Turning back to her, Anakin quietly asked, "Can you teach me how to use your light?"

So taken aback was she at his candidness, that she didn't know how to respond, "What do you mean?" He chuckled, shaking his head before standing up. Offering her a hand, he escorted her to her hall, stopping at the intersection on the south side of the palace.

"I'll be off in a few hours." He told her, "Could you please say good-bye to Sara for me?" She nodded, giving the man a much needed hug.

"Be careful out there." She told him, stepping back a moment later, "Don't make me go out there and rescue you." He chuckled at the sentiment, shaking his head a little.

"That was one time." He reminded her coyly, forcing her to laugh before disappearing down her hall. He stared after her, a grimace on his face.

Something was making him very much afraid to leave her behind this time. Something deep in the world aura and nothing more. This clouded him from seeing the eyes watching him in the walls.

* * *

As Brida undid her final braid, one of her many messengers appeared from a servant's door in the nearest wall. From this girl, she took a small disc, only to insert it into the nearest hub. An image appeared before her, one of Shmi leaping forward to embrace Anakin good-bye. She fought a grin, sensing her own husband clamber into her quarters in a foul mood.

"What the hell is that?" He demanded, approaching her nightstand with his brow furrowed. He stared at the replaying image as though hypnotized by it.

"One of my messengers brought me this." Brida explained, trying with all her might to appear just as heartbroken, "Apparently they witnessed this exchange not long ago. This is one of many HoloVids I've collected of their questionable exchanges." Grunting, Demantis sat down on the bed and shook his head.

"Your mind is full of poodoo." He informed her, "While Anakin is a despicable man when he wants to be, even he has lines he won't cross. Shmi and him were raised together: they're family."

"In everything but blood." Brida interrupted him as she turned his way, "Which barely means anything to a Windrider in the first place." Demantis once more shrugged her off, even rolling his eyes at the allegation. "You were wondering why it is Shmi that stands alone on the dance floor," Brida attempted to turn him, "I've noticed it for some time too and I've come to the conclusion that it is Anakin… He wants the throne, and leaving your daughter as heir gives him a simple means to take it. Why not name Sarantis to follow you? He would-"

"Enough!" Her husband shouted, "I'll not hear any more of this nonsense in denying my daughter her birthright!" He then stomped out the door towards his own chambers.

While at first Brida appeared afraid, she soon donned a wicked grin. Returning to her mirror, she activated the nearby HoloProjector, a man on the other end in a dark robe that shadowed his face. "It is done, my master." She reported in proudly, "The seed of doubt has been planted."

* * *

A rhythmic knock at her door signaled that Shmi had a visitor in the early hours. Despite being tired, she was fortunately already awake to answer. She pulled the door open to see that before her stood Sara. With his red hair still fighting the comb, the young boy stepped into her chambers with a laugh, "Daddy told me to spend time with you this week!" he proclaimed, "So you have to take me to my music lessons this morning!" It took Shmi a moment to understand that her father had granted her request, leaving her to wonder what her step-mother had done to prompt such a rash decision.

Smiling herself, Shmi stood and gathered her belt, throwing it over her tunic so that all her tools were at her side. She soon took Sara's hand, he entertaining her with various stories from while she was gone. "Mother was so angry." He finished one tale on a mix up on entres during a political dinner.

Chuckling, Shmi shook her head, "I can imagine so." At last, they'd crossed Castle Stavo, entering the offices that belonged to the various officials hired here. It was clear that this wing was meant for the lesser in status. Instead of the stone and durasteel walls artfully constructed in the royal wings, these rooms were pure durasteel panels, with the occasional statue remembering a fallen Drajdai of the past. The windows were considerably smaller, though still comprised of transparisteel in the event of attacks.

The court musicians also practiced in this wing, making it easy for Brida to assign them to the task of instructing her son. "I am actually surprised that your mother allowed you to take music lessons." She commented as they approached the large doors leading to the rehearsal room.

Smiling, her brother boasted his shining green eyes and informed her, "Actually, daddy said I had to take it." He giggled a little mischievously at the statement, "He said that music is important."

Nodding as she opened the door for him, Shmi agreed, "He's got that right." As they stepped inside the large room, the old woman that had once schooled Shmi standing patiently before as small stool, "Ani and I used to spend hours here just playing music. It helped us unwind."

"Sometimes daddy will play with me too." He added as he waved goodbye, "Maybe you can join us later."

"It's a promise." She replied before turning to leave, nodding to her old mentor, who, as she recalled, was a little timid when it came to expressing emotions in any other way but music. Before closing the door, she observed Mila instruct Sara on his breathing exercises before collecting his flute. And with a smile, she closed the door.

Having sensed him well before leaving the room, Shmi turned to find her father standing before the door. She greeted him warmly with a hug before stepping back, "Are you keeping an eye on me?" she teased, crossing her arms over her fine-print, silk tunic.

Smirking, her father shrugged, his mustache twitching just a little bit in the motion, "Not exactly." he replied, "I more or less just wanted to talk with you."

Nodding, Shmi took her father's arm as they proceeded back towards the political center of the castle, "And what might you want to talk about?"

"Anakin, actually." This caught Shmi by surprise, and he noted that in her perplexed face, "Your mother made a peculiar suggestion last night, and I wanted to run it by you."

Curious now more than anything, Shmi nodded that he continue. With a face showing how much he dreaded what he was about to say, the man proceeded, "She believes that the reason you are alone is because Anakin chases all the suitors off… That he wants the throne." It took a moment for that to register with the young woman, but soon after Shmi was stifling a laugh.

"So that's the story!" she chuckled, "I suspected she was devising some new fiction about him… They get along soo well, after all." She then turned back towards her father, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Anakin has no interest in taking your place, father. In fact, I am positive he is simply trying to serve you best. I am the reason the suitors flee."

Furrowing a brow, her father eyed her wearily, watching her walk away towards one of her own meetings. In hearing her words, he felt downtrodden and yet determined, "I highly doubt that, my daughter."

* * *

The ships had yet to arrive at the rendezvous, leaving Anakin to brood a little longer about his expedition. The entirety of the ordeal was weighing heavily on his mind, even with Gerali on board with his team of to investigate his claims. Something told him that their findings would be, at most, inconclusive.

As the mountains around Stavo disappeared completely from view, and the distant desert that was home to the Sandthreaders filled the viewfinder, Anakin attempted meditation. He attempted to find the young boy he used to be before he became the Goldenwind. That boy at least had patience enough to wait and see how things played out.

"Impressive." Gerali commented as he entered the observation deck of the ship, "I never took you for one to seek inner balance." Turning to smile at his adoptive brother, Anakin welcomed the man to sit beside him on the cold floor, "This whole thing got you turned up in knots too?"

"That's the understatement of year." The man replied dryly, he crossed his arms over his chest, staring once more at the gold and brown desert before him. "Any chance you could just lie about whatever you see. I get the feeling that Brida already alerted her father to this investigation."

Shrugging, Gerali pulled at his beard a little in thought, "If I did that, I could incite a war. Do you really want that mess on your hands, high general?" Anakin fought spitting at the sentiment.

"Anything's better than letting that tyrant manipulate Demantis any longer." he admitted, his heart heavy at the thought of the man he'd once admired, "I know he's never been fond of me, but I do care what happens to him. He's had it too rough not to let us watch his back."

Nodding, Gerali added with a sigh, "Our mother and father did little to nurture his tender heart. They didn't understand that their harshness was too much for him, that his was a kind soul, like Shmi's. The rest of us had it so much easier than he, and so I share your sentiment. Our brother must be protected from those who would abuse his trust. His heart is so scarred that any kindness towards it is sucked up like a sponge in water. I believe that Brida is using this against him."

With a frown, Anakin inquired, "The question is what for: I can't see a war between clans benefiting them for any reason." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "This feels like something much bigger… The world aura," he shivered, "It's been terrified for months."

Nodding, Gerali agreed, "I've felt it as well." He took a deep breath and then added, "Now if only we could plant this seed of doubt in our brother as well."

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, it's definitely a short chapter, but I felt it was just the right length to give us a clearer picture of our characters. I really wanted to convey just how complex Demantis is, since he's been portrayed so far as a very one-dimensional character in Promise. Hopefully his character's evolution will make more sense as the story progresses. **

**Anakin and Shmi have been a lot of fun to write. I figure I'll let them write their own story, in terms of their growth and bond. They seem to already have a life of their own, so it will be interesting to see how they guide the story themselves. **

**Please don't forget to review! I simply love hearing your reactions to the stories, especially about the parts you enjoyed the most!**


	6. Chapter 6: Sandstorms and Stories

_**Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun.**_

* * *

As the dust and sand swirled around him, tossed by a massive windstorm that clouded up the sky, a tall man stood, his wiry, yet strong frame somehow withstanding the torrent of winds. What used to be a rolling plane of gritty sand and solid rock was now a blur of white and gold. To protect himself from this barren and bleak desert, he'd pulled hides over himself, cloaking his body in heavy armor from the wind. His silver blue eyes were now shielded by massive goggles, allowing him to check his wristchrono for an approximate time with little interference.

"Damn." He muttered to himself, turning about back into his base camp. A mere shanty-town of quickly thrown up shacks and tents, there was little space between huts to allow for moving. Swoops and speeders were covered in spare leathers to protect them from the storm, their owners paying constant vigil from their nearby hovels.

Very little could be heard as the wind roared down the small alleys between shelters, and none could hear their high general cursing up his own storm. "Three gods-be-damned months and still the Cloudrunners delay in their rendezvous with us! Drajdai damn it all!"

With venting fury, he pushed his way into his shelter, where a lamp had been left to guide him back. Falling onto his cot, the man pulled his gear off and tossed it aside, praying that the grainy sands didn't find their way into his bedding. Across from him sat the curly haired, bearded man with piercing green eyes, "Frustrated, are we?" he asked, smoking at his pipe with an expression of serenity.

Turning furious eye his way, Anakin didn't even bother retorting. Instead, he rolled his eyes and pulled his feet from the ground, hoping to sleep.

Yet Gerali was not done with him, "I realize you have been most patient, especially for you," Anakin grunted his disagreement with that statement quietly, "But it appears that no evidence of Cloudrunner betrayal will show itself with my presence. Afterall, a sand storm such as this is a legitimate delay, as was the last one. I must return and file my reports with Demantis."

Suddenly filled with more energy than he knew what to do with, Anakin sprang from his cot, nearly falling out of it, "You're leaving?!" His voice was incredulous, "But, Gerali, even with you not seeing anything, your presence protects my men… You can't go!"

"I have to go, Anakin." He retorted, his face showing his displeasure at the fact, "It is high time that I begin preparing for the selection, and you know that. Demantis has been demanding my return for weeks now. As it is, I'm in for hell from him."

Frowning, Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, then brought them over his ears then, pulled at his hair, and lastly slumped forward. He didn't know what to do with himself when he was this distraught. He only knew that there was too much emotion to capture and control. "I hate this." He decided, finally looking up at the man he called brother, "I hate these endless nights worrying about the Sandthreaders, the fears I have of what is going on at the capital, the nightmares. I… I just want it to stop, brother."

Suddenly a little more sympathetic, Gerali stood and rested a hand on Anakin's shoulder. With a deep sigh, he confessed, "It will, in its due time."

Nodding very slowly, Anakin tried to console himself with this fact. He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward, before his indigo-fused mind's eye picked up on an oddity. He felt a pulsing in the world aura, a rumbling beneath his toes… one that had become quite familiar in past months.

"Sandthreaders." he whispered before springing up and gathering his protective garb.

Rushing from his tent a moment later, he hollered at all who were in earshot to wake the garrison and mobilize everything. In seconds, the shanty-town collapsed, revealing men mounting their speeders and swoops, packing away what they could spare before attempting to outrun something they could barely see when the air was clear.

Anakin led the way, his engine fighting against the sand as it flew through the the storm at the head of his men. He kept his lamps in the back bright, diverting power from those in the front that were useless. Sensing through the world aura, he knew the majority of his men were behind him, the Sandthreaders still a ways off. Trusting his instincts, he led the men towards firmer ground, an odd platteau in the middle of the sand he'd wished he'd sensed before.

Sandthreaders couldn't push their way through solid stone.

In slowing his swoop, he turned back to glance at the hoard of Skywalker warriors coming his way. Several in the back started screaming and the fire of explosions roared in the wall of sand. As his men, Gerali included, gathered on the flat rock, Anakin turned his bike around and drove full throttle into the fray. All his men could detect was the howl of his swoop as it drove on in agony.

The wall of sand continued to pound at his bike, eventually stalling it. He was pleased to see that his men had escaped the danger of it all, sensing the survivors in the back all gathered on the platteau, watching the sands for him. But he refused to turn back.

He refused to let this carnage continue.

Stepping away from his bike, now fallen into the sand and being coated by the wind, Anakin dug deep. He reached into his spirit, finding the part of him that was desperate and filling it with energy. He summoned as much conviction into himself as possible, and, when he sensed the arrival of the invading force, he let it out.

As ten Sandthreaders sprang out from the ground, splaying their bodies out in attack formation, Anakin took a deep breath and utilized burning flame. The orange light of fire lit up the sky, colliding with the airborne assailants, whose rags were slow to burst into flame from the various sediments packed in them. Yet still, Anakin tried to burn them away, finding some success.

The first of the warriors came close to him, a set of daggers entwined between his fingers. He sliced at the man, who merely backflipped back before slamming him in the face with a fiery fist. Spinning round, Anakin made quick work of two weaker threaders, burning their sides where their rags had torn underground.

As the three screamed, two more came at him, one larger than the other. This larger foe had an electric axe over his arm, and swung hard at Anakin with enough force to throw the sand back. Swinging more and more his way, Anakin soon noted that his hollowed out face sported eyes that glowed a faint purple. Channeling light.

Flipping back, Anakin did his best to also accept the world aura, feeling it claw into the night as he allowed it into his skin. With fresh purple light over his own irises, Anakin drew his blades and attempted to catch the warrior off guard. Channeling light did wonders on his speed and strength, moving him around the giant warrior swiftly and stably.

As the axe collided with his metal blades, a distinct shock swam down his arm, nearly distracting him enough to lose his light. But Anakin was well trained when it came to pain.

From the jolt, he pulled his conviction out one more, covering his blade in the fire he enjoyed so much. With two lights working at once, Anakin's eyes danced between the infamous orange and pure purple that was associated with each gift. The warrior he faced, while large and strong, did not know how to counter this combination.

With a growl of frustration, the man swung low towards Anakin's waist, just barely cutting the leather coverings he'd donned there. When he made this move, Anakin twisted himself around the strike, following the man's open shoulder towards his head. With a swift strike, the man's head was severed from his body, horrendous mouth open in shock as his scalp hit the sand.

His comrade cried out in agony, shouting something in their native tongue before turning to Anakin with green eyes aglow. Before he knew what had hit him, the painful drain of the green light overtook him. Filled with exhaustion, Anakin fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He could feel his insides twitch and contort in agony. "Shit!" he hissed at himself, trying to think of a way out of this deadly light.

The crash of lightning suddenly diverted his attention to behind him, where a flash of light had fired past him at his attacker. The Sandthreader that was struck had fallen to his knees, stunned by the yellow light colliding with him.

Catching his breath slowly as flecks of green light returned to him from his attacker, he watched in awe as Gerali threw another potent blast of lightning at the cretin, this time knocking him out entirely and allowing Anakin's strength to return to him in full.

As he breathed in and out, the man hobbled towards his brother, who now bore a cut across his cheek that bled profusely. "Good timing." He teased Gerali, "A little close… but good enough."

Chuckling, Gerali shook his head, "What kind of idiot engages Sandthreaders in a sandstorm?" He reached down and assisted the younger man from the ground with two strong hands.

"You're looking at him." Anakin smirked before falling onto his brother's shoulder, "I'd sensed ten of them originally… Where are the rest?"

Gerali put an arm around Anakin's waist, throwing his arm over his shoulder to help him walk back, "It turns out you trained your men rather well. We only lost about eighteen of them in this outfit, but managed to take out the others." Smirking, Anakin nodded with pride.

"'Bout damn time something went right for us."

* * *

Over the past three months, news had been arriving rather steadily regarding the Cloudrunner rebellion. Every seventh morning, just before breakfast, the whole of any interested party gathered in the comm room of Castle Stavo to listen in on the reports with the king. Shmi was one of them, having dropped her brother off at music lessons shortly before.

And here she stood yet again. Beside her was Uthias, still pulling sleepies out of his eyes due to his long nights working. She was hardly any better: raising Sara to be a strong youth was more work than she'd anticipated. Many nights now, he'd come running to her room regarding terrible nightmares.

Nightmares she had no idea how to address.

As usual, Gerali's image appeared on the HoloCom, silencing all in the room into an eerie quiet. "Your majesty." he bowed lowly, showing intense respect for her father. Shmi noticed that, for as worn as he looked, the man was dressed less in battle gear this time, his cloths more the scholar with flowing overcoat and cloak. As usual, he wore his preferred black.

"Lord Gerali," her father greeted, looking even more presentable in his fine blue tunic and breeches, "I expect you have a status report this time."

Nodding, her uncle motioned to the side, where Anakin entered the frame, looking all the more exhausted and frustrated, "Our camp was attacked last night by a group of Sandthreaders. We managed to slay them, despite a savage sand storm." he reported, "Unfortunately, our numbers have thinned drastically over the past three months and sightings have dwindled as well."

Smirking a little himself, her father then informed the man, "Princess Tabeeha has sent word to this council of your valor in protecting her home." Anakin stiffened as he said that, "She insists that you are perhaps the best swordsman this world has to offer, and that you cleaved the head clear off a Sandthreader in her garden." Turning away, Anakin nodded slowly.

"It was nothing." he insisted quietly, "We'd made camp within her town for a fortnight and the fiends had slipped past the wall. We owed them for their kindness."

Exhaling a sigh, her father attempted to ignore Anakin's odd behavior, choosing to address it later as she likely would, "Well, whatever the reason may be, you have served us well. It is now time to return home and prepare for the selection."

Stunned, Anakin's jaw practically dropped as Gerali smiled wide, "You mean… Our tour is over?" All that awaited him was a slow nod: one which brought Anakin to bow gratefully as he spat thank you after thank you towards her father.

Once the feed cut out, a curious Shmi pushed past her loyal court towards her father, wondering more than anything what was amiss. "Father!" she greeted him as she grabbed his arm, "What a generous thing to do! Bringing Anakin and Gerali home like that."

He shrugged a moment and relented, "Anakin has finally proven himself worthy in his campaigning. Recent reports indicate that the revived Sandthreader tribes have been all but cut down in his raids. A message was transcripted to Citadel to indicate that the apparent need for our support has been eradicated and we would be returning or forces to our own lands in time for the selection."

Filled with glee, Shmi kissed her father on the cheek. "Thank you so much for bringing those men home! Their families will be so happy!"

"Always thinking of the people…" her father muttered, flush on his face, "Shmi, I think that when it is time, the Skywalker clan will blossom from your touch." He then paused, careful to ensure that Brida was not nearby, "Just as Sara has under your care." he added in swifty.

Now it was Shmi's turn to blush a little, unsure as to what would prompt such a compliment.

As they moved into the hall, Shmi decided to elaborate a little, "Sara has always been such a tender and loving little boy… But his confidence was attacked at some point." Her father nodded, agreeing from his own perspective, "I have been trying to discern what caused this, but cannot find any clue. He seems to clam up, however, whenever his mother is around."

Freezing in his place, Demantis turned to her with a new gleam in his eye, a defensive gleam, "Do you think that Brida would do something to demean him?" While Shmi was desperate to say yes, a voice in her mind told her to tread lightly. She shrugged and turned away, finding a window to stare out of.

"I think that she unknowingly encourages it, out of her motherly need to ensure he is brought up right." she confessed, her voice somber, "I don't know anything more than that."

Turning around, Shmi then smiled at her father, "But you have always protect both of us. I am certain that with your guidance," she insisted, "He will be just fine."

This time it was Demantis's time to look away, "We both know I've never been all that even tempered, Shmi-"

"-That's not true father!" She argued with him, taking his arm, "You are loyal to the point where you are almost too loyal. Everyone benefits from this, especially Sara and I. Yes, you can be defensive, but we understand it comes from love and are willing to be patient as you find your footing in temperance again."

With a slight smirk, Demantis pointed out, "That may have been true these past few months… But Anakin is coming back, and you know how he gets under my skin."

Grinning a little, Shmi informed her father, "I'll talk to him. Perhaps there is a way to end this feud between you two." Nodding, her father accepted one more kiss on the cheek before she darted away to collect Sara for his next set of lessons.

In watching her go, Demantis sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure I could ever tolerate that spoiled brat."

* * *

Peeking into the doorway of her brother's study, she noticed that the boy was still engaged in learning. Through the use of a HoloImage, one of Gerali's chief scholars patiently interpreted the story of the day. "To be selected is a great honor, one requiring diligence and humility, as those that initiated the pact once had-"

"-But why do we need to have the selection?" Sara wondered innocently, staring at the picture of a large, circular, stone seal engraved with ancient writings. The shadows of the projection indicated a dark cave somewhere, making the face of the relief most ominous, especially to a young boy, "Why can't we just pay people to watch over the door?"

"Do you understand the consequences of overusing the lights, boy?" the scholar snapped, pulling at his blonde goatee anxiously, "All seven lights must be used to keep the Shaetin at bay. Daily must they be pushed back into their eternal grave by such a great force as those generated by the Drajdai, who haven't, mind you, walked among us in more than one-thousand standard years. To pay someone to stand there daily, their entire lives, and use that power is to ask them to forget everything about themselves."

He then paused and added, "The lights must be used sparingly."

Still wrought with confusion on his face, Sara scratched at his shoulder absentmindedly. His comprehension merely brought Shmi into the room, wanting to guide him to understanding gently. "Sara," she said as she sat down beside him, "Do you remember the names of the seven lights?" He nodded slowly and raised his hands to count.

"Purple light." He started, "Channeling light, which is gained by giving up your nature so that you can channel the world aura." Shmi nodded and prompted him to continue, "Indigo light. He listed next, "Which is knowing light, or the light that lets you see things from far away by giving up the ability to see from another person's point of view. "

"What's next?" Shmi prompted, her eyes gentle.

"Blue light." the boy smiled, "Healing light, which is my favorite. You can heal the darkness in another person's soul by not holding back. And then there is green light or thieving light… I hate that light. You have to give up understanding other people's feelings to be able to steal their life from them."

"I don't like that one either." Shmi admitted, even as the green light using chief sorcerer looked away with a huff. She was pleased to see the boy's confidence soar once more as he was permitted to elaborate in his own words, and not the words of the ancient texts.

"Yellow light is Uncle Gerali's favorite light." Sara reminded her, "Striking light, which zaps people with lightning after you give up your.. hesi-hesita-"

"Hesitation." Shmi helped him along, "Or that pause you take before you make a big decision." Her brother nodded, sitting back as he tried to pull himself together.

He then managed with a shy smile, "Orange light, or burning light, is Ani's favorite light. He likes it because you don't have to doubt yourself when you use it." Sara laughed a little bit, "I hope I'll be able to learn that light someday." Shmi smiled at him and ruffled his hair up at the comment.

"You can do anything you set your heart to." She reminded him, "You just need to believe you can." When the boy flushed, she prompted him on, "Now what was that last light?"

"Judging light." He said, "The meanest of the lights because anyone with any darkness in them is affected, even the user. You have to give up your fear and in return the air around you becomes the weapon, slicing people apart from the inside." Shmi sighed and nodded, turning back towards the instructor, who also looked away.

"The last person to use that light in this era was our grandfather." Shmi informed the boy, "By the time he died, he wasn't even afraid to cut his face shaving. He became very careless, and that led to his own death." As Sara nodded, his face glum, she continued, "It takes many years, usually decades, for a light to change a person permanently, and it happens too often on our world. That is why so many of us are cold and unforgiving, Sara."

She then turned towards the projector, pointing to the emblem in the HoloImage, "This door is the door to where all Shaetin wait to be set free. It took nearly all the Drajdai to lock them away on this world, and they all had to give up who they used to be just to accomplish that. Till the day they died, each one would take a year long turn watching over the door by themselves... Would you say that is fair to do to any person, even for money in return?" Slowly, Sara turned away, his eyes low as he shook his head.

"I guess not."

Hugging him closely, Shmi explained further, "That is why we have the selection every year. Gold and Silver warriors are chosen to watch over the door for one standard year of their lives, limiting how much a person is changed in their duties to Advorosia. You only are chosen once, and you are never alone in the burden." Seeming to understand the concept a bit better, Sara nodded and then inquired.

"Will you be chosen, do you think?" smirking, Shmi shook her head, "I have not mastered enough lights to qualify. My choice lights are healing and striking. I would need a third to even be considered, and that is with my name being drawn against the thousands that qualify."

Suddenly concerned, Sara wondered, "Will Ani be chosen?" When Shmi offered him no answer, the boy reminded her, "I mean, he's the only golden warrior on this continent, with burning, draining, knowing and channeling lights under his control, just like his father used to have... And daddy said he had been chosen before."

Taking a deep breath before she answered, Shmi finally relented, "No one can really be sure, Sara. But Anakin is being summoned home for the selection. Hopefully he won't be chosen this time." She closed her eyes and prayed that as much as she could to the many deities she knew of, regardless of her fealty to them.

Hugging her closely, Sara admitted, "I had a bad dream about the selection." He was very quiet about it, but his instructor overheard the comment.

"Indeed." the blond man elaborated, gathering his materials, "The boy insisted we skip our scheduled lesson just to cover it: he claimed he needed to know more about the selection process. From the Grand Seer's enchantment to the duration of the term." Shmi frowned, wishing that someone overseeing her brother's learning would at least take his concerns more seriously. _If ever I have a child of my own, no dream will go unexplained and un-soothed,_ she swore to herself.

"Well, thank you for your services." By now, the rude man had approached the door. "Good afternoon then," she called after the man, _what was his name again,_ "Tharof." Tharof nodded slowly.

"And to you my princess, my prince." When he closed the door, Shmi sighed and rocked her brother a little. She allowed him a moment of quiet to process things as his mind attempted to understand what was bothering him. It wasn't always easy for a child to truly understand their complex feelings, something Shmi understood well from losing her mother so young, but it was important to give them time to handle them.

"Would you like to tell me about your dream?" She encouraged him slowly. She felt him nod and utter one small sentence.

"It was the day after the selection, and I was alone."

* * *

**Author's Note: I think that's the most ominous ending I ever wrote. **

**I wanted to add in a thank you to Novelreader for pointing out that I never explained all seven lights before, which is a major oversight on my part and I appreciate you informing me of this. I hope this helps make sense of how the rest of them work. **

**Also, a quick thank you to my mother as well for helping me work out some of the details in planning out all the lights over the past few months. My goal was to make a Drajdai someone who was especially dangerous and blind to the ramifications of their actions, and I feel that this combination really explains that person. _(Vielen Dank... Mutti ;-) _**

**And, lastly, thank you to those of you who reviewed. It means a lot to me to hear your feedback. I look forward to reading more from you all!**


	7. Chapter 7: Judging Light

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

He'd had the foreboding feeling about his return the entire trip back from the desert. He'd started grinding his teeth in his sleep again, resulting in an ache around his jaw that lasted most of the day. Even canoodling with the women of the Cloudrunner courts as they passed through their cities did little to distract him. There was no avoiding his melancholy thoughts.

It did not go unnoticed by his men and adoptive brother. Many did their best to avoid the topic of their return, keeping their eyes low when he'd passed by on their ships or avoiding him altogether.

While their efforts were meant to give him space, all it did was make him feel isolated. And that was the very feeling that was brewing in his system; an impending sense of isolation.

A question had been brewing since he'd received the news that his tour was over. One that had formed shortly after the kind words of Demantis had been processed. Try as he might, it was hard to keep the question buried deep inside himself, the voice uttering the dark thought growing louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore. "Gerali." he inquired as the castle came into view on their seventh day of travel.

Turning to him while stroking his beard, his green eyes weary, "Yes, brother?" he asked with hesitation in his voice. It was clear he knew what was coming his way, but was still offering the kindness of permitting Anakin to voice his concerns.

Glancing back towards the castle, the sight of it glowing in the setting sun, Anakin gulped a moment, feeling like a child as he brought thought to word, "Do you think he rigged it?"

Exhaling in exasperation, Gerali shook his head, "Never."

"Why?" Anakin fired back, "I would."

Chuckling, Gerali rested a reassuring hand on Anakin's shoulder, looking him in his crystal blue eyes with wise old green ones, "Because if he could, he'd have done it years ago." While the thought was meant to console him, the notion made him raise his brows high in shock.

"That makes me feel so much better." he replied flatly with a frown as his brother turned towards the hall to make way to exit, "You know, I'd kill just to get on his good side for once… But then someone probably would kill him."

"I'm well aware of that, brother." Gerali chuckled, "Chances are at least a few hundred have already fallen as tribute to that statement alone." Blushing a little, Anakin sighed: Gerali would be no help to him today.

As the landing ramp descended, brother followed brother towards the grand landing platform awaiting the war heroes. Castle Stavo was bustling with Skywalker and ally alike. As nobles and prized warriors from across the globe gathered before him, Anakin sighed.

The impending roar of the selection was tiresome, making the hydro-powered, golden gears that encapsulated the fortress, lining the gray stone, nothing more than a small hiss in the background. Sentients of all kinds stood before him, each descending from one of the forty Drajdai responsible for imprisoning the Shaetin fiends in the core of the world, or their many acolytes. The sheer numbers left him speechless each and every occasion. It made him feel small.

Afterall, he was the only true descendant of Damir Cloudrunner left. The rest of his fallen clan were merely the families of the acolytes of that great warrior. It was the same with every clan.

Following Gerali towards the large door leading into the castle, now spread wide open to permit the influx of arrivals easy entry, Anakin did his best to look proud and confident. Four guards dressed in fine armors stood in a row on each side of the door, a grand display of power by the king meant to impress. Anakin nodded to these poor, likely bored souls as he passed by, and they to him in respect.

As they filed in with the various nobles and warriors already in the cavernous hall, Anakin found himself walking with eyes low. This was not out of respect, however; this was his nerves rising to the surface in a cold wind that made him want to curl in on himself. But lowered eyes would have to do. Those he passed seemed to appreciate whatever they interpreted his gesture to mean, warm smiles on their faces as they nodded "Generals" their way.

After a slow amble through the many in the hall, the receiving chamber doors suddenly appeared, also wide with the sounds of festivities bellowing out of them. Already regretting his return to Brida's interpretation of court, Anakin bit his lower lip in an effort to quell his immensely irritated mind. Sensing his mood shift, Gerali turned his way and offered him a reassuring nod once more as they stepped in the line of those waiting to be recognized by Demantis.

Now behind the king of the distant Wavemaker clan, a people who were aptly named in Anakin's not so humble opinion, Anakin and Gerali waited patiently for their recognition and reception by their king, however muffled it might be in the din that was the overflowing hall. Entertainers bumped into them twice, apologizing to the princes aptly before returning to their shows of skill with blades and rings of many kinds.

The second time, one of the only other three golden warriors turned round to give him an unimpressed glare. He was Chiss, much like most of his tribe, making his glare especially effective, save for the fact that Anakin was far more nervous about the ceremony tomorrow night than any possibility of throwing down with an equal warrior. Part of him actually relished the idea of a good fight to help him release the tension his breathing techniques could not reach.

"Kisteth Waker." Anakin nodded to the man, who was nothing more than a determined footsoldier at the beginning of his career.

"Anakin Windrider." he nodded back, his glare subsiding as he noted that the man was not as irritable as he appeared, "I'm surprised to see you here given your work aiding the Cloudrunners with their Sandthreader problem."

"The only real problem is that they've expanded into dangerous territory." Anakin sighed, "Perhaps with more diplomacy between Cloudrunner factions, my efforts would not have been needed."

That comment seemed to shock both Kisteth and Gerali, who turned to him with a slight smirk, "Impressive assessment of the situation." Gerali teased, "It almost sounds like something the princess would say."

Grinning slightly as the conversation grew, Kisteth inquired, "Is she truly as remarkable as they say? Rumor has it that she has earned the trust of the Treedwellers without much effort."

Nodding, Anakin assured the Chiss, "Princess Shmi is skilled in the art of diplomacy. She is apt to learn about others and shows sincerity in all interaction. It comes as no surprise to any of our clan that she accomplished this. She will likely be our greatest and most beloved queen when her time comes."

"Such news is excellent change for these ears." Kisteth admitted with a toothy grin, "It is high time we have benevolent leaders on this wretched planet, ones the opposite of our forefathers."

"Agreed." Gerali sighed, "Watching my father fall victim to the lights was strenuous enough without enduring his edicts." The three men all nodded solemnly, not wishing to shame or upset the souls connected to their blood. "Many still speak of the day he fell on the battlefield with mixed emotions."

Kisteth glanced towards the acting king of the Skywalker with a quizzical brow, "I too know that pain. The last chief and I were as brothers, on and off the battlefield. His madness in achieving the golden status was painful to watch and hard to reign in. It keeps me sparing in all that I do." He then turned back towards Anakin with respect, "A restraint rumor claims you share, having watched two golden fathers fall."

"I'm fortunate to have only experienced the lapse of one." Anakin corrected the man, "But the lessons of both follow me in sun and moonlight. It keeps me hoping that the selection skips all those like us, sparing us that eventual madness for as many years as possible."

"Indeed." Kisteth sighed.

In that moment, the Chiss Wavemakers arrived to the front of the line, forcing them to turn with courteous nods before presenting themselves to King Demantis and Queen Brida. While Anakin was relieved to find a kinsman in his woes, he was disappointed to find Sarantis seated with a far off expression beside his mother. The look on his face showed the boy trapped in a nightmare. He found himself wondering where Shmi was sent to prevent his rescue.

* * *

Frowning as Shmi poured over record after record in Gerali's tower of the castle, the many mirrored faces of his personal vault displaying her solemness as she drew yet another holochron from the depths of the Skywalker's ancient record. "Come on Asha." she hissed, "You have to have the answer somewhere."

Her conversation with Sara left her with concerns of her own, ones that required investigation, something far more tedious since her scholar uncle had yet to return. While she was able to access his private collection, she was unaware of his organization of it, with some of his records written in a language she didn't even recognize. "Damn!" she fumed in frustration as she sat back against another mirrored panel.

As she watched that fully investigated drawer pull back into the wall, she curled around her legs and meditated, both releasing her tension and seeking guidance from the voice of all worlds. "I promise Sara, I'll find some way to keep you safe."

The boy's nightmare tore at her heartstrings, him panicked at the very thought of not having Anakin and Gerali at his side. _My shield and sword were gone all of a sudden, their kind voices far away._ While his recount of the shadows that attacked him sounded just like Shaetin, Shmi was certain that they represented those close to him turning on him: making him just like them.

Slamming her fist into the floor to rid herself of that final breath of frustration, Shmi shouted into her legs. "Damnit!"

Yet, as she caught her breath, she heard the familiar sound of mechanical whirring pulling her eyes towards that mirrored panel she'd struck. Surprised, she fell on her knees and turned to watch yet another storage unit pull itself from the floor, three more holochrons glowing brightly inside of it.

Confused, she reached for the top one, only to have it disconnect itself and float into the center of the room. As it centered itself in the room, the ends of the holochron split itself, the remaining walls following as a figure appeared in the room. She was smaller than Shmi, her image merely half the size of the average human, her hair a dark chestnut brown, even in the holochron, and her eyes glowed in an unsettling way.

"Entry 574: Dreams and Prognostication." the legendary Asha began, her image crisp and clear as though she were standing before Shmi herself, "Some years ago I was gifted with the birth of my second child. My son, clearly strong with the Force, struggles to sleep through the night at the young age of nine. Investigations revealed he has inherited the gift of foresight, his visions arriving to him through the Force during deep sleep and rousing him. While I am left standing at his side each night, pouring reassurance in the Force to quell him, I find myself wondering how to best prepare him for the inevitable pains to come. This task is even more daunting, given my growing lack of compassion in this hostile environment."

Sighing, Shmi pulled her cloak closer to her, chilled by the luck given her in this crucial time. "Some of our young are cursed with foresight naturally, where the visions appear as mere nightmares, most often dismissed as just that. As they grow, these visions become clearer, more concise, and often prompting irrational action by the child or even the adult in their efforts to prevent that which is often inevitable. For those living on Advorosia, this gift is often intensified due to the collected prisoners we guard. The shadows below the ground create an uneven tension in the Force, to which many users instinctively grow into new gifts to guard against them."

She then paused and turned away, likely glancing at a sleeping child in the room with her that the holochron did not capture. Satisfied that whatever had disturbed her was not an issue, she returned to her disclosure, "The most difficult task in dealing with those gifted with prognostication is assuring them that these events are not inevitable: they are merely the Force warning them of an outcome soon to occur due to a dark action taken by them. While it is risky to overgeneralize this topic, less than 20% of documented visions occur due to inaction of the seer. 50% of this margin involved dreams where inaction was the warning presented in the vision. The remaining 10% are visions where one capable Force user has connected with the plight of another."

With eyes wide, Shmi sat back and thought about those statistics, wondering what she should do with the information as Asha continued on, "It is my personal hypothesis that those capable of great light in the galaxy are generally the ones gifted with this ability. My compatriots rebuff this idea, suggesting that my pride in my children is what formed the conclusion in the first place. Naturally, I disagree, due to long term studies I've enacted in trying to find a way to protect my son. I have noted that, while gift might seem a curse, in truth, it benefits the user so long as they understand the gift."

Smiling, Asha nodded to herself, "I believe that the light of the Force is reaching out to these individuals, attempting to guide them away from darkness by warning of that inevitable decision coming their way. Yet, as benevolent as the gift might seem, many Force users do not interpret these dreams in this way, acting in ways that cause the outcome in their visions and darkening themselves in their desperation to prevent the event."

Taking a deep breath, the famous Drajdai added, "It is important that this fact be presented to those with these gifts. Theirs is a special light which must be protected by the reassurance of those close to them." And, with a slight flicker, the image died. In mere seconds, the glowing holochron reassembled and inserted itself inside the storage unit.

Slowly standing, Shmi took a deep breath and calmed herself: her luck was powerful and she thanked the worlds' spirits for it. The ancient term for the worlds aura, the Force, had always been kind to her, but she believed that this was due to the fact that she strived to add goodness into the Force around her at all times. It wasn't easy, but moments such as these proved these efforts beneficial.

Turning about and exiting the vault, Shmi walked slowly down the spiraling stairs towards the main antechamber of Gerali's offices. While his trainees continued to loom over panels of information, she plotted the exact words she needed to reassure her little brother. Her exit from the tower was relatively unnoticed, as was her entry hours before.

Knowing that, by now, the halls below were likely filled to the brim with nobles and warriors from all over the globe, Shmi straightened her hair, re-affixing her many golden clips adorned with pearls befitting a princess. She was relieved to find her extra long, embroidered tunic, was not rumpled and creased due to her work in the tower. Even her slippers garnered her attention, them being the main focus of hers as she descended the stairs towards the pleasure gardens her mother had cherished in life.

As expected, the silver and gold warriors had congregated here, the majority of them conversing ominously as they stood in rings of four or five in the many clearings of the garden. While few took note of her, the majority of them were so deep in discussions regarding the seal of the Shaetin, she reckoned a downpour in the gardens wouldn't stir them.

"Reports indicate that the seal is weakening." A rodian silver warrior warned in his native tongue, "The last twelve selections have only yielded silver warriors, it's about time a golden warrior takes on the challenge!"

A human with long, braided blond hair refuted him with his unusually deep voice, "A golden warrior wouldn't make a difference!" he then added with a frown on his dark face, "The missing light is the real issue: we need the judging light. That would keep the Shaetin at bay."

Frowning at the thought of anyone once more yielding that infamous light, Shmi made her way towards the halls where the nobles had wandered. While she received recognition here, with any and every faction nodding at her passing in respect, their attention was anything but assuring. She found herself fearing what she would find in the room her father dwelled in.

Yet, the doors did appear and through them she did go.

It was as she'd expected: Anakin and Gerali stood before the king with a tense air reverberating around the room. While Sara stood by, his mother placed an unnecessary, protective arm over him. Yet, she found herself surprised as both Anakin and Gerali took a knee.

An action that seemed to please her father; "Welcome home my faithful generals!" her father decreed, "I am glad to see that you were granted safe passage through Cloudrunner pass and that the Sandthreaders were far too weak to stand against the Skywalker clan!" The show continued on as the many guards present in the room cheered, their noise punctuated by the applause of the visiting nobles.

Relieved to see that Anakin had kept his mouth shut for once, despite whatever suspicions he might have dwelling in his sharp mind, Shmi made her way through the crowd to greet those returning. As she passed by, Shmi glanced sorrowfully towards her brother, unsure of how to rescue him from the clutches of his overbearing mother.

As both Gerali and Anakin were dismissed, Shmi found the most direct path towards them. As Shmi had passed, however, Terio Icequescer stepped into her path. While she was frustrated, this was hardly the time to show it. Terio was a young lord from a large citadel in the north of the continent. Roughly her age, he'd amassed a great fortune mining from the rich grounds beneath him. His people heralded him a savior, as his enterprise, now only two years old, created a trading economy that spared them from starvation.

Shmi was well aware of his accomplishments, which made passing him by seem inappropriately rude, even if she wanted to dash straight over to her uncles. "Lord Icequescer." she nodded politely, "How wonderful to see you attending this year's selection."

Smiling and nodding back, the bright blond man retorted with a voice like silk, "Hardly… It is merely humbling to be in your presence, dear princess. Rumors of you spread far and fast." While his near black eyes appraised her with slight inappropriateness, Shmi did her best to stay her place as he continued, "Your beauty, however, has been vastly understated."

"You are too kind." Shmi replied, a slight and uncontrollable flush growing on her cheeks as she spoke. "Such words are a great compliment from one such as yourself."

"Beautiful, bold and humble." Terio teased her, his grin spreading wide over his face, an expression that likely had earned him the role of heart-breaker in many other courts. "Stavo's castle truly does hold Advorosia's greatest treasure." Shmi did nothing more than fidget at the compliment: while she was used to these comments, having them come from someone on par with her father made the situation unusually uncomfortable.

"Indeed." Came the familiar and stern voice of a wondrous savior. She turned to find Anakin, his curled and golden hair falling over his face as he glared towards the lord with cold eyes, "And proper… Far too proper to inform a neighboring lord when his leering eyes have seen enough."

Chuckling, Terio shrugged, "I can't help but speak my mind Windrider… Something I hear you do quite well." he then turned back towards Shmi, grabbing her hand to lay a kiss upon it with a questionable glance to her, "Till another time, fair princess."

As he strode away, Shmi let free a sigh of relief and turned towards Anakin, finding him still glaring angrily at the man as he disappeared into the crowd. "Thank you." she told him, only to receive no response as he spinned towards the opposing door and vanished. "Anakin?" As his massive and strong form also dissipated between socialites, Shmi crossed her arms in discomfort.

"What's wrong with him?" She inquired, sensing her uncle approach.

With a grunt of displeasure, Gerali rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "It isn't something you've done… or even what that Icequescer boy has said: he's very much afraid of this year's selection." Turning back towards the bearded, wise man, Shmi felt her heart freeze in her chest.

"I am too." she admitted as fanfare sounded for the arrival of the Grand Seer.

The whole room went silent, the crowds parting widely as an assortment of guards, one from each of the forty tribes, paraded into the hall. With each donning the armor representative of their tribe, Shmi smiled at the sight of her cousin Suma, who was sent to the seer last year.

Turning towards Gerali, Shmi smiled, "Uncle Uthias should be pleased." She watched as the man nodded, his eyes instinctively turning towards where his twin stood in the room, likely suppressing as much emotion as possible to maintain his poise.

As the guards broke to stand at various points of vantage around the room, Suma took his post beside her father, his height clearly much greater than the last time he was home. With his dark brown eyes staring forward into the crowd, he made no single motion as the seer stepped free of her cloaked seat, her face covered in silks and sheer materials.

Yet, as the small woman's feet padded down the carpet, a small shout did cry and a young body leaped into the air from the thrones, dagger in hand. Shmi watched in horror as Sara's tear stricken face neared that of the seer.

Yet, he stopped in mid air, unable to move.

When the boy was set down, his dagger tossed aside towards one of the forty guards, the previously silent dignitaries began shouting. Shmi glanced up to her parents, both stricken silent at what had just befallen them. She pushed them through the worlds aura to act.

The cries of outrage demanded reaction: "Prince Sarantis just attempted to take the life of the seer!" "Without the seer, we cannot divine the selection!" "What was the boy thinking?" "He should be put to death!" That last statement, edicted by none other than the boy's own grandfather, King Ospra Cloudrunner himself, brought action from his guards.

As the towering, silver clad guards stepped into the center of the ring, Shmi glanced towards the throne to see her father rise, his face furious. Yet she could not hear his words. It was as if the world was frozen and all she could see was the electrostaffs being drawn on her brother. She was seemingly struck dumb.

And in the next moment… a red cloud overcame the whole of the hall. The Cloudrunner guards levitated over the ground, their limbs contorting in pain as flecks of black and purple fell from their skin, seemingly burning within the red cloud until nothing more than embers. If they were screaming, she could not hear it.

She could not feel anything… not a sensation for some time.

Then, like an explosion of realization, the cries of the crowd blasted in her ears, the whole of the room moving at tempo as the guards and lords and ladies all turned their attention to her. "It's a conspiracy!" shouted Ospra, "The prince and princess aim to destroy the very sanctions of peace in our society!"

Wondering what the fool meant, Shmi turned towards her uncles, horrified to see that they too were as dumbstruck as she. Still startled, she turned back towards her crying brother, amazed to find that her hand was outstretched in his direction. Even Anakin, standing at the front of the far crowd, likely having dashed out to protect Sara, stood in horror.

"At last." The ancient seer's weathered and wise voice called from under her veil, "The judging light returns to Advorosia."

Trembling as the crowd whispered in awe, Shmi lowered her hand and uttered silently the only word she could think of, "No!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! I know it has been a while, but I certainly hope the wait was worth it. I've found myself really wanting to work on this story at the moment. I'd love to hear what you think! A lot has happened in this chapter, so don't forget to review!**


	8. Chapter 8: The Selection

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

Trembling, that was all he could do at the sight of what his precious princess had done in the throne room. Yet, while his body struggled to contain his anxiety at the thought that Shmi was now a silver warrior, qualified to be selected, Anakin found himself more afraid for her than ever.

The pile of near dead bodies in the center of the floor around her brother were nothing more than a tribute to the dangers of judging light. And it meant that, despite her sympathetic nature, Shmi was not afraid of inflicting drastic carnage when pushed to.

And Cloudrunner had pushed her.

The trembling returned hours later as he slammed his fist into a nearby tree, his feet following the path through the gardens towards the small waterfall where he often preferred to meditate.

The hour was late and festivities had ceased long ago. Save for the newly instated guards, the whole of Castle Stavo slept deeply at this time. And the gardens, a place he'd always believed a harbor for a mysterious and calming magic, was his and his alone.

Or so he thought.

In approaching the clearing, the soft sounds of crying could be heard just under the burbling of the waterfall. Sighing, as he knew this voice, Anakin pushed a few stray vines aside and stepped into the free space.

Before him was Shmi in a light yellow nightgown and matching robe, her knees curled up into her chest as she buried her face in her crossed arms. Her hair, normally pulled out of her way, was splayed over her shoulders, chestnut ringlets falling in every direction. She seemed to belong to this scene, as though from an old artwork that had followed the Drajdai to the planet. Even the flowers, white and yellow, seemed to accent her beauty, despite all her sorrow. Thoughts and opinions he knew he had to put away quickly.

Crossing the clearing silently, Anakin sat down beside her and wordlessly wrapped an arm around her. She turned and held him tightly, her tears falling into his lightweight tunic, turning the burgundy a dark red. "I can't believe I did that." she weeped as he pulled her closer.

Sighing, Anakin lifted her chin to face him, "I'm glad you did." As her dark brown eyes glanced away from him, he told her more, "Even though your father would have stopped any execution, it is important for the other tribes to see that harsh reaction isn't the solution… It is something you've taught me many a time."

"But that was harsh reaction... And even if it were some lesson, the cost-" she refuted, shaking her head as her voice cracked in agony.

"-Was determined by them." Anakin assured her, "Not you." While that thought seemed to pacify her guilt, it did not stop her fear. She returned to crying into his tunic, her grip loosened from before, but still taught. After a time, when the birds began to sound and morning began to trail in, her sobs ended. With the sun slowly peeking into the gardens, dancing on flecks of dust and pollen, Anakin and Shmi remained still, holding one another as their fears were slowly released into the world's aura.

"Sara," Shmi broke the silence suddenly, her voice still hoarse, "He told me of a dream he was having… Of a vision. I think he was acting on it, trying to stop the dream from becoming reality."

Still not letting go of her, Anakin rested his chin on her head, "What did he see?" It took Shmi some time to collect her words for him, and when she did, they poured out much like the water fell over the falls.

"He dreamed that he was here, in the gardens," she began quietly, "A golden sword and silver shield by his side, when the flowers began to bloom. But rather than bloom in a variety of colors, they bloomed silver, with three golden blooms among them." Anakin sighed, seeing the analogy of the dream clearly.

"The selection."

Nodding, Shmi continued, "Suddenly, the throne room came into view and the flowers became people. And then the people became as shadows. Sara turned to gather his sword and shield, who had spoken kind words to him before, but they were gone, and he was consumed." Pulling herself away from him, she glanced up into his silver blue eyes, hers still red and puffy from her tears. "I'm sure he believed that if he got rid of the Archsage, he wouldn't be left defenseless here."

Sighing, Anakin shook his head, "Sara is as gentle as you are: there is no way he came to that conclusion on his own."

Turning away, Shmi wiped away another tear, "You're right… But who would suggest such a thing to a child?"

Scoffing at the ridiculousness of the question, Anakin turned the other direction, watching the waters and releasing his tension, "Who else would promote his behaving like a tyrant?" There was silence in their clearing as Shmi deliberated that question.

"Brida is cold," Shmi retorted harshly, "But she isn't so irresponsible as to suggest to her son to commit a crime. Ani, you can't possibly think she would do something like this?"

Frowning, Anakin turned back to her, a glint of defiance in his eye, "If it got you to react, then, yes, I think she would."

Frustrated, Shmi stood up and bolted towards a nearby path, "Sometimes you are just too ridiculous." Yet, as she was close to leaving the clearing, a strong hand stopped her. She turned to find Anakin standing behind her, his face exhibiting his stubbornness.

"Think about it." He pushed her, "Everyone knows how you dote on Sara… Using him as a catalyst is a very clever way to force you to awaken a light in you. And if you are selected…"

"...Sara has no one to protect him from her." Shmi realized, almost letting the idea sink before shaking the very thought from her mind, "That's impossible! How could she have predicted I would be able to save him?"

"She couldn't." Anakin pointed out, releasing her from his grasp, "Which is why it was her father that ordered the guards on her son."

With jaw dropped, Shmi started shaking her head once more, "Sometimes your mind is overly theatrical, Ani." She then pushed him back away from her, "For Brida to even plan something so devious, she'd need to be in contact with her father: something father is smart enough to monitor. And for all my father's idiosyncrasies, he is not so cruel as to risk his children."

Having no response to that point, Anakin's countenance fell. Rather than provoke her further, Anakin let her walk away, instead turning his face towards the burbling stream flowing beside him. His reflection stared back at him, a sad look on it's face.

Closing his eyes, Anakin tried to calm himself, to release this constant geyser of emotion that seemed to flow right out from between his shoulder blades and all over his body. His head was aching from the lack of sleep, the anger, and the confusion.

And it was the confusion that as keeping him awake most.

Meandering back towards his own room, Anakin blinked his way through the memories of yesterday, especially around the grand event that was Shmi's rescue of Sara. In that moment, he'd so much fear for her. Had it not been for the words of the seer, he was certain both she and Sara would have been put to death.

Before he'd known it, his hand was on the hilt of his blade, his muscles tense and ready to rescue them both: but especially Shmi. While he was loyal to his adoptive family, the incessant need to save her from everyone touched a nerve of fear that had been struck many times before.

He could live without many things, but not Shmi. She was his harbor in the storm of his past, present and future. She kept him level. She kept him from becoming his sire.

And the source of this realization was both alarming and perplexing to him. Every day together, especially in moments such as the one that had just passed, he felt that chord be plucked and the fear and anxiety built up in his chest much like a string instrument echoed sound from within itself. Fear of being alone in his feelings and anxiety of what having such emotions for his princess could mean tore at him inside. His absence in aiding the Cloudrunners had painted that picture clearly for him, something he realized the moment he saw her yesterday.

Again in his room, a large space filled to the brim with stargazing equipment and weapons old and new, Anakin fell directly on his bed, his eyes closing as he attempted to combat what was starting to become inevitable. Inevitable and self destructive.

* * *

The festival of the selection was not an indoor affair, but rather a long line of various events that pressed up against the river Stavo, the very waters that fed into the largest falls on the cliffside. In lining the gold and gray castle, any and every visitor was privy to the most wondrous sight in the range, especially at sunset. With the rays of the sun hitting the castle just right, they made the golden gears that lined the outer walls gleam and sparkle against the mist of the falls.

Shmi had found a vantage point when the sun became low in the sky, seating herself on a large boulder beside the fair stalls. As various domestic mountain breeds made noise from within the temporary metal hall, Shmi took a deep breath and enjoyed the sight of the castle in its light once more.

Sara's vision echoed about in her head, making her all the more certain that she was about to be sent away. Part of her was furious she'd once believed it was her uncle Gerali. It was all so much clearer now: she, his silver shield, now a silver warrior wielding the missing light. She, the first in her generation to master her fear by simply letting go of it in absolution. She could feel the small pin pricks in her personality from that display, though she was certain it was merely her mind.

_After all, it takes years of abuse to really damage a person's persona with the lights._

Then her thoughts turned to Anakin: her Ani. She had been the first to name him that, unable to pronounce his full name as a toddler, and the name had never left him. Her mind's eye sped through the years spent with one another; their wandering the cliffsides and getting into trouble. While she always formally called him uncle, he was never that to her: he was her playmate and companion. He was also the one she often took blame for so as to protect him from the wrath of those who could not look past his surname.

And he was Sara's golden sword. The one to always step forward and say what had to be said, even if protocol dictated otherwise. She remembered so many times when Ani called Brida some crude name in regards to her treatment of the boy. Shmi always wanted to believe every mother could love their child without fail. Ani was of the opinion that some are willing to lose that part of themselves for power. His words that morning left her leaning towards his opinion.

With the actual selection to begin at sundown, she found herself trembling in fear. If they were both selected, hers and her uncles force would be cut in half. Their influence went far, but she and Anakin alway prompted the most action from her father. Brida would essentially have full control of both her father and brother for one year: and that could destroy her nation. There was no way to pass on the selection. If chosen, you had to go. And you left right away.

No goodbyes. Nothing.

Shmi's mind sped through the various scenarios her tenure at the seal could leave her with: a revolt against her father, her brother unable to speak, her nation defenseless due to loaning all the troops to the Cloudrunners. The ideas left a sour feeling in her stomach. _Why does Ani always have to be right?!_

"World's aura and all listening gods," she pleaded, "Please do not let them choose me." Part of her tried to believe that one display of a light did not mean mastery and she would be passed over. The other part told her wishful thinking would not save her this time.

As the sun began to turn from bright light to the tired orange, Shmi spotted the other wrinkle in Sara's prediction: Anakin. His tall frame strode through the crowds much like a giant through trees. All moved away from him as though he were king, and, in another life, he probably would have been. He was stern, proud and demanding.

And a year's worth of solitary confinement alone with him would mean the dance they'd participated in for years would finally have to be addressed. There would be no more hiding behind duty and fear. There would only be that painful discussion.

"You seem quite forlorn." Terio Icequescer's voice suddenly proclaimed. She turned to find him setting himself down beside her on the large boulder with some discomfort. It was clear that he was not among the silver warriors in the selection. "Perhaps a fresh ear could lighten your thoughts."

Smiling a little, Shmi sighed, "I never considered I would be taking part in the selection this year; I haven't mentally prepared for such a possibility."

While she didn't stare at him, he stared at her with a crooked grin on his face, his dark eyes glittering in the sunlight. "I think it is marvelous that you get to participate." he admitted, shocking Shmi. It was well known that being selected was a horror disguised in honor. "A person with a gentle spirit such as yourself needs to see all the toils of Advorosia, because that will make you better prepared to help others with similar experiences. I cannot see you changing while at the seal, no matter how much your power must be abused."

Surprised by his candid comment, Shmi raised a brow and turned his way, "I never thought of it that way." Then, with a smile, she added, "Thank you Lord Icequescer."

"It's Terio to you, princess." he added gently, "And know that my clan will always be an ally to your cause. Our world really does need someone like you at the helm of one of our great nations." The seriousness in his eyes and voice charmed her, as she felt that this man was opening up to her, confiding and trusting in her. And, in the spirit of kindness, she kissed his cheek.

"Thank you Terio."

As he smiled genuinely and nodded, Shmi turned back towards the sunset. Except, instead of the glow of red from the star, she spotted the glow of contempt in Anakin's distant eyes. He stared at her momentarily before turning and stomping off towards the officiating grounds.

_Selection or no,_ Shmi realized, _There is no more avoiding our dance, is there Ani?_

* * *

Fanfare sounded as the sun descended to half hidden behind mountains. A crescent shape of onlookers built up around the edge of the cliff. To the right were the candidates, all huddled up close with paled faces and parched lips. None could eat or drink at the thought of being chosen.

Across from them were the common citizens of many nations, some of which traveled as far as the distant continent to witness and write poems of those chosen. While the warriors wore their best tunics and armors, weapons strapped to them every which way, the commoners stood by in their everyday clothes, some from the town and in between shifts from the quarries.

Between these two parties were the nobility: the direct descendants of the forty. These were the people who became rulers, as their ancestors were the ones to form the tribes around their teachings, ensuring that someone would always be on Advorosia to keep the Shaetin at bay. These were the people with accrued wealth: yet many, if not all of them, were also eligible for selection. They too stood nervously, some switching between feet to keep their anxieties away. Their kind did not tolerate weakness.

Anakin stood far from these people, knowing that Shmi was among them and likely still talking to Terio Icequescer, wishing that the burning in his blood was just worry and not what he knew it to be. Beside him was no one familiar: no one to help take the edge off his mood through friendly conversation.

When the acolytes of seer appeared, gentle flutes made of distant tree bark began to play the old songs of the Jeddai, long altered to match the lifestyle and teachings of their Drajdai brothers. As the acolytes lit a series of candles surrounding the small stage, the grand woman herself arrived.

Dressed in fine lilac and white garb, her veil as light on her face as any other, the woman gestured that a large trunk be brought forward. The trunk was gilded, decorated in fine designs representative of the struggle between Drajdai and Shaetin from ages ago. When inspected closely, the gash made in rage by his biological father during his selection could be seen clearly. He wondered if he would be adding to it this day.

As the trunk was opened by two priests, the seer reached in and gathered a large orb. From a distance, one would barely see this glass object, it's edges so clear, one would assume it could shatter at any moment. But up close, it became obvious that the orb was quite solid and filled with grains of quartz sand.

While the priests began to chant and the flutes grew quiet, the seer progressed down the aisle and up towards a platform. This platform elevated her up just enough so that she could capture the last light of the day. Raising it high, her apparently green arms frail and thin, the woman reached deep into the world's aura, kicking up dirt from around the platform.

And, as the final ray of light touched the orb, it began to glow.

By the time the sun had fallen behind the last of the mountains, the seer had descended from her platform. She set the orb down inside of a small stand and read the grains, as was tradition. As the final beam of light had been captured in the orb, many shadows were cast along the grains. Tradition claimed that these shadows were the names of the two the Shaetin would fear for that year. After much time for interpretation, the old woman called out these two names ominously.

"Anakin Windrider." She stated first, with many in the crowd turning to talk and gossip to one another, "Last of the Windrider Clan."

As the notion that his feelings were correct, that he would be isolated and away from home, sank into his bones, Anakin watched the seer do the ceremonial walk clockwise around the orb. Thinking back on Sara's vision, he hoped and prayed the boy was merely fantasizing a horrible nightmare. Quickly, he shot a glance back towards Shmi, seeing her face petrified as she stood beside her father. He was surprised to find Demantis looking stoic at his selection.

_Maybe he does actually care._ Anakin hoped before turning his eyes back towards the Archsage.

It seemed to take a great deal longer to determine who would accompany him to the seal, making his hopes rise that it was anyone but Shmi. Frankly, he'd hoped that the golden warrior of the Wavemaker clan would join him, as he was a like minded spirit. Just as he glanced over towards the anxious Chiss, the old woman spoke.

"Shmi Skywalker." She called out with certainty, "Princess of the Skywalker Clan." And, as she spoke, the whole of the clan retorted in anger.

"That's not right!" the commoners spat towards the seer, their lives far too grounded in the earth they toiled in to mind the ancient protocol. "Yeah," another loud voice agreed, "They are from the same clan! Not once has two been called from the same clan before!" "But he's not Skywalker." Another reminded them, "He is not truly of our clan." "But Princess Shmi has only just learned the judging light." Someone roared, "She's not a master yet: she shouldn't even qualify!"

While guards he'd trained stomped over towards the rabble to silence them, Anakin took the tentative step out of the crowd towards the seer. Many he passed wished him well apologetically, knowing that he would not return the same man who left and that his changes would be for the worse. He, however, focused on the things he could not say, namely the goodbyes that were forbidden thanks to the many that attempted to flee from their obligations in the past.

No, there was no time to waste. As he glanced at Shmi, her head hung low as she parted from her father, he realized that she too dreamed of a goodbye.

Together, they knelt down before the seer, their hands in her's as she gave them a blessing. And, together the rose to board her enormous ship that had landed behind the ceremonial platform when the sun had fallen.

Goodbyes were forbidden on the outside, yet, as the ship disembarked and the solemn crowd became small, they both turned and spotted Sara, and each of them reached out into the world's aura to him. Together, they beseeched he hear their apology and regret.

But in the distance, they felt him turn away. They sensed his dread at now being alone.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Well, where would the story be if they weren't chosen? After having reread this for proofreading, I think it is ironic that they are the two selected, but Anakin Skywalker is the chosen one (Seriously, how did I miss that and not play it up in Promise?!)... And don't worry: I don't plan to break away from cannon. Writing in the spaces in between is more fun anyway!**_

_**Please don't forget to review. I'd love to hear your predictions. What do you think this inevitable conversation might be?**_


	9. Chapter 9: The Seal

**_Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd. The following work is not intended to add to, promote or distort this series. This is a work of fanfiction, and the author does not profit in posting. This is simply a writing exercise written for fun._**

* * *

The interior of the ship was, well, much too fancy for any clergy member in Shmi's eyes. She'd always fancied that those involved in the sacred arts and rituals should live a life free of menial distractions: much like the ancient Je'ddai of legend. This, however, was not the reality.

Instead, she strode down a large hallway as Stavo disappeared from view, Anakin silently at her side. The plush red carpeting beneath her kept her boots silent, but it drew her eyes to her feet. Only the adornments on the walls stole her attention from the fine floor. Large, ancient mirrors; golden statues of the Drajdai; relics and expensive momentos: her father's castle was not near as posh as this large barge.

Glancing over towards Anakin, whose eyes were practically hidden under golden curls, Shmi reached out to him through the world's aura, hoping to console him. More so, she was hoping he would console her, as he had always done while growing up. Instead, all she found was a dark void of his dread. He was also afraid.

As the blue clad priests of the seer guided them down the hall, Shmi became aware of their direction towards the bridge. Moments later, the door was opened revealing a large staff maintaining the barge and all its features. The amount of people working on this fortress, nearly half the size of Castle Stavo, stunned Shmi. She found herself speechless as the high priest of the seer introduced himself, staring instead at the room around her.

"My name Menniken." The man started, pulling Shmi's attention back to him. He was a lean man, though very tall. His hair was long and white, pulled back into a large clip and covered by a dark blue hat. His clothes were a variation on what the priests wore: sky blue robes covered in dark blue vestments. "You will be in my care while we travel to the seal." He then bowed reverently, "It is an honor to be in the presence of such a renowned general and princess."

Anakin was the first to bow, he appearing far more collected than Shmi. She followed suit afterwards, her hair falling in her face a little as they fell out of her bun. Nodding, Menniken turned and waved that they follow. Their escorts went separate ways, likely towards their own posts on the large ship.

They turned to two large doors laden in gold. Fitted with a motion sensor, the doors swung open at their approach, revealing a large room that appeared pulled from the outside. "This is the purification room." Menniken started, leading them to the center of the small garden, "Here you will meditate twice a day, releasing yourself from the ties of your home. You cannot dwell on your responsibilities while at the seal: you must solely have your attention on keeping the Shaetin locked inside."

He then gestured towards what appeared to be a faux hot spring under a small outcropping, "You will wash here, purifying your bodies after purifying your mind." Two priestesses then stepped out, "These two are trained in the rituals associated with purification, they will help you." Each woman nodded to them before bowing, "This is Hassa and her twin sister Jesha."

"It is an honor to be in your service." Jesha, the slightly thinner of the identical twins, reported. Her sister nodded beside her. The two women were rather odd. They wore dark blue hoods over their hair, so it was difficult to tell what color it was. Their eyebrows were gone, replaced by the tattoos one often saw a Twil'ek get to add that feature to their face. Most startling were their gray eyes, which seemed to be the only color on their very pale faces. It was not entirely clear if they were human or not.

As quick as they'd arrived, they turned about and left, their habits making a slight fluttering noise from their movements. Menniken then drew their attention towards an opposing door, one Shmi suspected led to their living quarters.

A few steps later proved she was right. Two rather plain twin beds were set across from the door, a humble wooden nightstand between each. "You will rest here for now." Menniken informed them, "Your purification starts tomorrow at sunrise. On the eve of your third night on this ship, we shall arrive at the seal." he then stepped back and closed the door, "Sleep well." he called before the latch clicked shut, followed by a whirring, indicating an electric lock.

_Apparently there had been past efforts to escape while en route to the seal_. Shmi realized.

The two of them stood silently, staring at the door where their abrupt guide had once been. Shmi found herself lightheaded and fell back on the nearest bed, grasping the covers with her hands, "He was sure in a hurry." She noted.

Nodding, Anakin moved across the room and attempted the door, "They really are afraid of people running from this task." He commented after turning the knob a few times, "One would almost think it wise to change tactics in recruiting people."

Chucking, Shmi pointed out, "And give up their authority? Never."

Snorting, Anakin turned round and sat down on his own bed, staring at his hands for a while before finally speaking. His voice was solemn, almost shaking, "It seems Sara was right… He's lost his sword and his shield."

Shmi bit her lower lip, "I hope he'll be all right." As tears began to well up in her eyes, she found Anakin once more at her side, holding her closely, "I hope we'll be all right." She added as he rocked her, shushing her much like a child.

"We will be." He told her firmly, pulling her away so he could look her in the eye, "We're Anakin Windrider and Shmi Skywalker: we've escaped trouble a million times at least. This challenge is nothing more than a stepping stone." While his optimism showed clearly in his voice, it did not make it to his eyes. "We've no choice in the matter, after all."

Suddenly sobbing, Shmi admitted, "Oh, Ani, I'm so afraid."

Shushing her again, Anakin added, "Don't let go of that fear. Promise me you'll hold on to every inch of who you are." And, in his mind, he began plotting, wondering how it was he could protect Shmi from this infernal trial.

Little did he realize, she was plotting the very same thing.

* * *

"No contact will arrive to you from the outside world." Menniken informed them on their second day of training, "You can, however, send home small holos indicating how you are doing. These will be collected by the Seal Guards and inspected by the Keepers of the Seer. You may do this once a month to keep your families apprised of your good standing."

Rolling his eyes as the man paced with his instructions, Anakin exhaled, _In other words, you will tell them what we want to keep people from coming to check on you._

As if to verify his thoughts, Menniken added, "You are not permitted any visitors." He then paused as if to reinforce his point, "Your objective is to care for the seal: you haven't the time to worry about anyone else, any place else, or any part of your old lives."

Sighing, Shmi nodded, her eyes low in sadness. "Will we be allowed any break from our duties?" she inquired, "Any chance to recharge and come back to the seal strong?"

Halting in his steps, Menniken stared at Shmi incredulously. In seeing the look on her face, however, Anakin noted his features softening. Stepping closer to Shmi, and descending down to one knee, he assured her, "Twice a month the Seal Guards will escort you to the nearby town of Maski. You will be allowed one hours time amongst its people and no longer."

Anakin smiled as relief appeared in Shmi's eyes, her nodding solemnly. As Menniken stood tall once more, resuming his pacing as he dolled out instructions, Anakin glanced over to Shmi and mouthed, "We'll be fine." to her.

"The seal itself is comprised of seven keys." Menniken proclaimed, facing away from them and reverently towards a replica carved into the back wall. "When the seal is attacked by the Shaetin from the other side, you must add your light to the corresponding key. Simply stand on the correct symbol on the floor of the cave and release your light. The seal will collect it from you." He gestured to each individual key carved into the wall, marked with the symbols corresponding to each light, and their mates on the floor. "The red key, in particular, has been weakened extensively from years of neglect. It will require immediate repair once you land."

They nodded together, Anakin already armed with a plan on how to help Shmi with this task. "How often can we expect the Shaetin to attack?" he inquired, his general face on.

Adjusting his blue hat, Menniken replied sternly, "There is no measurement to their attacks. When they happen, they happen." He then added, "If they do try to break free while you are visiting Maski, the Seal Guards will collect you immediately. The town and seal are five minutes apart by swoopbike." Again, the two nodded. "The Seal Guards will only be present to collect your holos, give you food and relieve you for your visits to Maski. Otherwise, it is you and the seal. They will, however," he added with warning in his voice, "be monitoring the cave and the nearby forest to make sure you do not neglect your duties."

Turning towards one another, Anakin and Shmi exchanged worried looks. "You mean we'll be prisoners." the man corrected, his silver-blue eyes filled with his own warning.

Frowning, Menniken shook his head, "Hardly." He then explained, "We just monitor the entrance to the cave and the border of the woods. You'll have freedom to establish your own routines and get fresh air as you need it, one at a time, of course." Smiling, he crossed his arms, "We used to monitor everything, but found that our… volunteers became very stressed by the added knowledge of our watching their every move. Some tried to take their own lives. Needless to say, the practice stopped."

Sighing, Anakin admitted, "I think I can live with that." he then turned to Shmi, who nodded.

Shortly after, the sisters appeared by the spring, clothes and bottles on trays in their hands. Nodding to them, Menniken turned back towards Anakin and Shmi, "I'll take my leave then."

As he left, Anakin and Shmi drew their legs in and closed their eyes. They began to meditate for an hour as the sisters prepared for their purification rituals. While Anakin found himself struggling to let go of his anxieties, his reaching out into the world aura showed he was not the one having the hardest time. He could feel Shmi's nervousness grow greater with each passing minute, the ability to have time to think intruding on what should have been a break for peace.

Wanting to comfort her, he reached out to her in the world aura, visualizing holding her hand as they had done as children while strolling the River Stavo. Bringing the clear image of them, smiling wide, hands swinging as they meandered by the rocks and stones in search of the small amphibious animals that were present, he was relieved to feel her smile. He wanted her to know that she was safe and Sara would be fine, even if he didn't fully believe that himself.

When their meditation was over, the two of them meandered over towards the sisters. While Jesha assisted Shmi in getting into a robe, Hassa began slapping on the correct oils over Anakin's bare skin. He wasn't a fan of this process and didn't understand how any of this was helpful with their mission. Frankly, he found the practice a little intrusive, as the sisters made sure every cell on his body was covered in these powders and oils.

Later, as he plunged into the water, he found himself growing chatty, "What exactly does this ritual do for us?" he inquired of Hassa, who had a slight flush on her cheek as the man waded about in the deep spring. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I've always wanted to be pampered by beautiful women… but this feels out of place."

Chuckling in the background Jesha shook her head while she rubbed the essential oils down Shmi's back as she chanted ancient words, the woman in her care appearing near sleep. Her sister was the one to offer insight, "The journey to the seal is often very strenuous for those chosen." She then paused, collecting a few more of her instruments before turning back to him, "These rituals, were designed by the seer to assist you in letting go of your anxieties. The oils are actually infused with calming herbs."

Staring at her with a coy grin, Anakin retorted, "So you're drugging us." Rolling her eyes, Hassa nodded slowly, "Interesting." Anakin muttered under his breath before submerging himself completely under the waters.

He stayed down there a while, holding his breath as long as possible while he contemplated this information. The more he learned about this trial, the more he'd wished he was like his birth father in his selection. Part of him wondered exactly how far these priests and acolytes would go to keep them calm and focused. _Clearly drugging us isn't beyond their strategies._ That knowledge made him plot: how to get untainted food, how to ensure they had a safe water supply, these things all ran through his mind.

When he at last surfaced, Shmi and Jesha were gone, likely on the other side of the spring where he could not see them. Swimming around a bit more, Anakin contemplated the situation. While the seal was important, it wasn't the most important thing to him; he needed to learn the judging light fast if he was going to protect Shmi. Determined, he dove back under water and held himself there as long as possible, starting small with the fear of drowning. As it was something he could control, the action would be small steps towards a much larger goal.

Reaching in deeper, he searched and searched himself for the strength to let go of fear. Yet every time he came close, he thought of Shmi and Sara and lost the reins over himself. And then, he would feel numb on account of the various elements introduced into his body.

An hour later, he surfaced and headed towards a fresh set of blue clothes for him. The garments he'd worn were being cleaned for him, and so he was dressed as an acolyte aboard the ship, as was Shmi. When he'd left the spring area, he moved towards a small table set up near the replica seal.

A large spread of very luxurious foods were placed on the table, making his mouth water, even as he wondered which items were treated with herbs meant to pacify him. Starting with the protein, he worked his way across the table. As he was finishing up his food, Shmi approached and sat down.

"How are you feeling?" Anakin asked her. She merely shook her head, her hair still wet from the spring.

"I want to be angry." She admitted, "But once I find the emotion, it fades away. It would be frustrating if I could feel that." Anakin chuckled and nodded.

After dinner, they returned to their quarters, the doors automatically locking behind them for the night. As they lay back on their individual beds, Anakin was caught off guard by the ramblings of his exhausted princess. "I used to think that overusing the lights for a year was what changed those who returned from the seal." She then turned her head towards Anakin, her brown eyes falling under heavy lids, "But if they continue to feed us these herbs through the year, who knows what will become of us."

Turning his eyes back to the ceiling, Anakin nodded, "A year bouncing between lights might harden our hearts a little, but the extremes we've seen from others selected do make me wonder how much of their changes were a result of the work and not the pacification methods." Sighing, he added, "I've spent most of my life using those lights, sometimes even abusing my gifts… Yet, I cannot say I've changed all that much yet. Mother always said it took twenty years of use to really feel the changes, or ten years of abuse."

"Perhaps they are just afraid of us becoming hostile while in the chamber." Shmi surmised.

Shrugging, Anakin admitted as his eyes closed, "They don't know us all that well then… I can't remember the last time we were really angry at one another."

Sitting up, Shmi sighed and then faced Anakin, "We've always had a place to escape to when we became frustrated with one another Anakin. This is sheer isolation with one another: a lot can happen under those circumstances."

Snorting a laugh, Anakin turned back to her, silver-blue eyes open, "Like what?"

It took a while for Shmi to say what was on her mind, "How about those unspoken feelings we've kept at bay?" When nothing was said for a while, she added on to her statement, "Being alone for so long, it might be hard to keep those feelings in check. I can see that being very frustrating for both of us. We might even fight about it."

Silent at first, his jaw drop wide at the allegation, it took some time for Anakin to retort, "I don't know what you're talking about." And with that he rolled over, feigning sleep to end the conversation. He could sense Shmi staring at him a while before she did the same.

Through the world's aura, he could sense her drift into deep sleep, yet he could not. His heart was beating much too fast for any form of rest. Not even those calming herbs could bring him to relax.

_She said 'we.'_ Echoed about in his head the rest of the night.

* * *

The Seal of the Shaetin was located deep in the mountains on the south side of the continent. These tall, natural monuments were intimidating to look at, even for two raised in the Skywalker clan's mountain range. The ship they traveled on stayed low in the valleys, following a large river upstream towards a small town.

Anakin and Shmi, both finding themselves most calm despite the seriousness of the situation, watched from the observation deck as features passed them by. Among the many wonders of the Maskis Mountain Range were the great carvings of the Drajdai. The stood along the riverside, slightly larger than the average human in size, yet ornate and carefully crafted. Made as monuments by the acolytes, several cliff sides became the eternal resting places of the ashes of the ancestors that had started it all.

A work of art, each cliff side monument was carved to resemble the warrior within the statue. Yet, over time, these works of art were overgrown, with ivy and other foliage becoming a part of the artwork itself.

One of these shrines interested Shmi most of all. She'd wondered exactly where her ancestor, Asha, was buried, hoping to pay her respects on the trip back.

Beside her, Anakin scanned the coastline, ignoring the wonders as he attempted to locate safe traveling paths in the event of their needing to flee. While he was calm, his mind was still sharp and active. He had only one goal, and that was to protect Shmi. _Damn the seal if necessary._

After an hour's time following the river, a large, green valley came into view. As the large, castle like ship turned down it, Anakin and Shmi were called to the presence of the seer. Menniken led then down the path towards a new set of large doors. These doors reminded Shmi greatly of the walls of Stavo, especially of her home's hydraulics used to power both the castle and the city. Yet these gears seemed to circle an ancient clock, though what is was measuring, she could not be sure. While standing before this blue and purple and golden monstrosity, Menniken vanished.

Wondering just how long they'd been standing there in awe, Shmi and Anakin turned to one another curiously before rapping on the door. Rather than a voice echoing through the space, the doors swung open in response. Before them was a large hallway, this one laden with stairs that led to a large observation platform.

In following these carpeted steps, it became apparent that this was the meditation space of the archsage herself. She sat, her veil long gone, her eyes closed and her offering no recognition to her visitors. Her age was even more apparent in the way the green hues of her skin had lightened, making her tattoos all the more noticeable. Anxiously, Anakin and Shmi waited patiently, prostrating themselves politely on the floor.

After what seemed like hours, the seer spoke, "Through the winds and past the skies, two great lights shall leave, with lights greater still, returning in their place." Then she opened her eyes wearily, revealing their dark black color. It contrasted well with her pale green skin.

A Mirialen, the woman had tattooes lining most of her face and shoulders, representing her achievements in her original clan. Her hair was graying, though still black, and her skin was not as wrinkled as either of her visitors expected. She appeared much younger than she actually was, even in the harsh light of the sun behind her.

"Your grandmother made this prediction years ago." the seer told Shmi with a smile, "It was one of her most potent visions, leaving her incapacitated for weeks… And it seems your brother might also be so gifted."

Suddenly understanding, Shmi's jaw dropped, "You knew why he'd attacked you." Her fists clenched, but the herbs already in her system forced her to let go of her anger.

Nodding, the seer informed her, "I was well aware of his fears… I could feel them pulsating through the room… Yet I could also feel your growing need to stand up for those who cannot, your fearlessness. I had to see if I was right."

Biting her lip, Shmi fought to find her anger, fought to find anything to say back towards the ancient, but was too weakened emotionally to try. Anakin too was trembling in his efforts to enrage. His mind knew he should have been furious, yet all he could see was the logic, even if it irritated him.

"When your names became evident in the shadows," the seer continued, pulling herself from the ground to meander over to the window, "I recalled her prediction and had to wonder for myself: what would this experience do for two full of so much potential as you? Damir and Asha's descendants: two of the most powerful Drajdai that ever faced these monsters."

Smiling, she turned around and admitted, "My hope is that you will live up to their examples and return Drajdai yourselves." Resting her hands on their shoulders, she blessed them once more, "Go and seek this potential: I sense that Advorosia has need of great warriors once more."

Rising from their blessing, the two of them nodded slowly before departing, their thank yous sincere, yet quiet.

Menniken was waiting outside for them, a set of guards carrying supplies behind him. Among these guards, Shmi and Anakin recognized Suma and smiled towards him. They were surprised to see no response from their much missed relative and turned towards one another nervously.

Moments later, the ship had landed along a cliff side, the mouth of a large cave at the back of it and sheltered by trees and ivy. Before the cave were two lean individuals. With their supplies gathered up, these two men were prostrating themselves before the entrance.

One was Togruta, yet his Montrals seemed to lack the color of the stripes it should have. Shmi wondered if the confinement had anything to do with it. The other was human. He was balding and had odd patches on his skin.

As they rose in the presence of Menniken, Anakin and Shmi glanced towards one another. The men were lean, too lean, and their expressions shown two who'd been through a great deal. The sight of them would have made their nerves rise.

"Yandl, Loen," Menniken greeted the men, "Congratulations on a successful tenure of the Seal. We are here to relieve you."

For all the joy they should have been feeling, neither smiled. Their hungry eyes never left the ship.

As Menniken walked past them, he gestured that Anakin and Shmi follow. Hesitantly, they did as instructed.

The inside of the cave was much larger than they'd expected. While the opening in was just barely large enough for tall Anakin to get through, the interior had a vaulted ceiling that was both impressive and foreboding. Carved by the ancients, depictions of the monsters behind the seal looked more the stuff of nightmares than religious history.

The large amphitheater styled room was joined to only one other, a narrow set of steps leading into a darker cavern than where they stood. On the far side, near the only other openings in the room fell a small waterfall, whose path continued down a small tributary on the floor into a deeper cave through a narrow opening in the far wall. In the center, where steps lowered the ground slightly, was a large burning pit with a small metal stove over it. It was apparent that technology was sparse in the room. Even the lighting was provided by menial torches.

Menniken stepped into the center of the room, leading Shmi and Anakin deeper into the space. "You'll find supplies hidden away in that small alcove." he pointed out, his extended finger showing a small ridge in the carved room beside the door. Inside were crates of many sizes, some marked to contain rations while others indicated oil was inside them. "There are plenty of furs over there, for when the nights get cold."

He then moved over towards a small, carved shelf, his blue robes appearing gray in the sparse light, "And this," he raised a large vase, marked in the same blue he wore, "This is your emergency light. If one of you is injured, simply pour this oil over the torch outside and light it."

Nodding, the two of them watched him replace the vase and walk between them. "You two are fortunate to know one another so well." Menniken admitted, "Usually it takes a great deal of time for partners to trust one another." As he smiled at them, his eyes darted over towards the stairs, "I cannot show you the true seal, as I am not purified. It would be best that you inspect it soon."

He then turned and exited the cave, "Good luck!" he called, leaving Shmi and Anakin to stare after him, frowns on their faces as they dropped their bags of clothes onto the ground.

Silently, they moved about the cave, almost afraid to speak with one another. As Shmi approached the alcove hiding the supplies, she noticed that there was a place to hang her clothes and smiled. It was a relief to her not to have to worry about her clothes getting soaked. While Anakin continued to roam about the amphitheater, she took her time in carefully placing each item on the shelves and hangers.

Anakin, however, was more concerned with the safety of the space. Everywhere he looked, the cave appeared ready to fall apart. It was clear that, save for guarding the seal, this ancient temple was abandoned. Given how much he had to endure to become 'purified' to enter, he surmised that the Drajdai and their descendants were too 'calm' to maintain the space.

_Or, perhaps there had been war,_ he realized, noting several indications of blaster fire and struggle.

At last deciding that the fire was a priority, even in the summer heat, Anakin stepped outside to gather wood cut by the previous tenants. As he moved past the large emergency torch, he glanced to and fro in search of alternative food sources. A river nearby allowed him a small sigh of relief, as did the distant sounds of game. And, with the forest so plentiful, he assumed that they would have plenty of herbs and berries to scrounge and gather, if not some other indigenous foods.

In the distance, he could almost make out the small town of Maski. With the sun setting on them, the rooftops did more than reflect the light of the distant star. Even the storms surrounding the planet seemed to dance across their town.

The crunching of footsteps indicated that Shmi was approaching. "It's beautiful." She commented with a sad smile, "I almost wish that Sara was here to witness this. Almost."

While he knew that deep down she was worried, he also knew that her ability to express those feelings would take time to return, especially given their soon to change diet. "We'd best get started, and not worry about such things."

Chuckling as she gathered logs for the fire in her arms, Shmi pointed out, "Always on the move."

Turning back to her, Anakin stared incredulously, "It's not a bad thing."

A slight grin as he turned around brought a smile to Shmi's face. _Menniken was right,_ she realized, _We are lucky to have each other for this task._

Yet, even as she followed Anakin back into the cave and added her own wood to the fire, her thoughts turned to two nights ago. "_I don't know what you're talking about."_ She knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to recant that statement and hoped that, especially with his plans to secure untainted food, he could keep his emotions in check until they were able to escape to Maski. Part of her almost wanted to stay on their given diet, simply to avoid what was inevitable.

After the fire had been sitting in the darkness for nearly an hour, Anakin rose from his step and gathered one of the torches on the wall. Moving around the room, he lit each torch, providing modest light into the room. He then stopped at the stairs, "Well, shall we?"

Staring at him with a frown as she contemplated his suggestion, Shmi eventually nodded and stood. "We'll have to go up there at some point, right?"

Following him up the winding stairs was ominous, almost like being lost in a haunted maze of some kind. Each step she took felt heavy, with the next one heavier still as the air filled with the dark side of the world's aura. It was a cold sensation, one she'd never felt so strongly, even with the various shaman and fallen warriors of the lands doing their dark deeds. As they approached the door, she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered.

Nearly twice the size of the grand seal replica on the skiff, the door appeared more a gate than anything. The symbols of the seven lights over the shuddering form of a Shaetin carried shadows that made the gate appear all the more ominous. In looking closer while Anakin lit the accompanying torches, it became apparent that one of the seals, the one furthest to the left, was offering a faint glow. A red glow that seeped through what appeared to be cracks in the seal..

"I suppose I have a lot of work to do." Shmi realized, dropping her arms and moving towards the matching icon on the ground.

In reaching deep inside of herself, finding all her fears to once again cast out, Shmi felt Anakin's eyes upon her from the back of the room. It was the fears she had for him and of him that she gathered and casted out. The effort took a great deal of time and was far more foreign than her initial use of the light. The sensation of being fearless was an odd mix of distaste and fascination. The experience made her all the more aware of what her grandfather had gone through, even though the light she'd made was nothing more than a small glimmer.

A beginner's attempt.

After a standard hour of fierce meditation to maintain the judging light, Shmi finally collapsed. She awoke hours later, curled up in the large furs that had been folded and put away upon their arrival, Anakin nearby and tending to the fire. "Thank you." was all she said, him merely nodding silently.

For a moment, she observed his stoic expression, how the shadows ate into his face as he contemplated and planned. Even his silver-blue eyes, normally sharp and radiant, were not but stone orbs. It was clear something was bothering him, yet he would not voice it and neither would she.

"We'd best both get some sleep." Shmi suggested, rolling over to notice that Anakin had forgon his own furs to offer her comfort. "There's plenty of room." She added, knowing he'd curl up on the stone floor if she didn't.

Whether he'd accepted her suggestion, she knew not, but she hoped so. It would take all their strength to endure this challenge. And it would take all their patience to endure one another on this endless adventure. One that would eventually reshape who they were, without either of them having a choice in who they were changed into. Such thoughts made Shmi toss and turn through the night, her bumping into Anakin's shoulder at one point. Knowing he was nearby actually offered her some relief. She leaned her head into his shoulder, a faint, possibly a smile present on her face.

And that was their first night at the seal. One of many to come.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Happy Holidays! Hopefully you all got to spend it with those you are close to! Please don't forget to review! _**


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